


Three's a Crowd

by onehorneddemon



Category: Addams Family (TV 1964), Addams Family - All Media Types, The Addams Family (Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Cunnilingus, Desk Sex, Everyone is bisexual here until proven otherwise because fuck you, F/M, Lurch deserves more love, Multi, Other, Pegging, Porn With Plot, Power Dynamics, References to Drugs, Roleplay, Threesome - F/M/M, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, also Lurch is trans because I'm trans and I say so, irresponsible potion usage, oh christ I'm going to have to update the tags every chapter aren't I, one shitty shitty mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:00:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 37,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27041632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onehorneddemon/pseuds/onehorneddemon
Summary: "I only suggest it because it's something we've never tried. We could buy all the toys and torture devices in the world, and it still wouldn't be the same as a third human being. Flesh, blood, a beating heart, and a complete mind of their own. I think it could be fun. Don't you?"Morticia and Gomez are happy with their sex life, but they think they can take things a step further by involving a third.[THIS FIC IS 18+ ONLY, IF YOU ARE A MINOR PLEASE GO ELSEWHERE.]
Relationships: Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams, Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams/Lurch (Addams Family), Lurch/Thing (Addams Family)
Comments: 35
Kudos: 47





	1. Tango for Three

**Author's Note:**

> I usually draw stuff rather than write it, but here goes nothing! 
> 
> This fic is based heavily off of the events in the episode of the Addams Family sitcom "Lurch Learns to Dance." Ideally there will be a later chapter based on the episode "Mother Lurch Visits the Addams Family", and maybe Debbie from Addams Family Values will get a turn too.
> 
> These versions of Gomez and Morticia are highly inspired by the sitcom, obviously, but I try to make their mannerisms merge into their 90's movie iterations as well. This Lurch, however, is 100% inspired by Ted Cassidy's portrayal in the sitcom since none of the movies do anything fun with his character.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morticia proposes the idea of a threesome to her husband. Gomez agrees, as long as they find just the right person. Little do they know that they may not have to look further than their own home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some sections of this chapter are just portions of Lurch Learns to Dance, but with ~*~added subtext.~*~ You can watch the episode on YouTube for the full effect :P  
> cw for unsafe driving, if that sort of thing makes you nervous you can just skip the part after the ball!

(For anyone interested, the sitcom episode this part of the fic is based on can be found [here!](https://youtu.be/k27e_zZzg_w))

* * *

"Mon amour."

"Mm?"

"Have you ever thought about having a third?"

"Child? Now? Well, I... I'll admit I have, but I'm already far too spent to try for a baby this morning, querida."

Morticia laughed, pressing a kiss to her husband's neck. "No, darling, I mean a third in bed. With us."

Gomez lifted his head from his pillow, gazing at his wife with shining brown eyes. "Cara mia, am I not enough for you? Just say the word, and I can do better! We can have another round, I can use hot wax, and-"

"Gomez, relax. You're perfect. Two orgasms before nine in the morning are more than enough proof of that." She gave his cheek a gentle pat, and he breathed a soft sigh of relief, sinking back into the sheets. "I only suggest it because it's something we've never tried. We could buy all the toys and torture devices in the world, and it still wouldn't be the same as a third human being. Flesh, blood, a beating heart, and a complete mind of their own. I think it could be fun. Don't you?"

Gomez thought it over for a moment, his brow furrowed. "I... suppose... it would depend on who this mysterious third would be. Forgive my selfishness, but I wouldn't feel comfortable sharing you with just anyone, Tish."

"Forgiven and encouraged, mon cher."

Gomez smiled gratefully at her. "With that in mind, it would have to be someone familiar, dependable, someone I truly trust... and someone who would not threaten the fidelity of our marriage." He lifted the cigar waiting for him on his nightstand, lit it, and gave it a few puffs before blowing a perfect ring of smoke. "But if those terms were met..." Another smoke ring. He turned his head and smiled at her. "...then I can see how it would be exciting."

Morticia beamed. "Wonderful." She paused as she heard a distant thump, a low groan, and the slow descent of heavy feet down the stairs. "Sounds like Lurch is awake." She gave her husband's thigh a gentle pat before climbing out of bed. "We'll discuss this more later, but first, breakfast and the paper."

"Oh, the paper!" Gomez sprang up from the bed. "I don't know about you, Tish, but I think I heard a police car crash last night, and I'm desperate to know if it made the news!"

* * *

"Gomez, darling, why hire an instructress for Lurch?"

Gomez turned to face his wife, puffing at his cigar thoughtfully. "Seemed to be the best decision in the moment. The man's not going to learn to dance on his own. Why do you ask? Do you think he'd prefer a male instructor?"

"It's nothing to do with his preferences- I suppose it's selfish."

"Querida. You know I encourage your selfishness."

Morticia smiled gently at her husband. "You see, I would have rather liked to teach him myself. I'm sure I could shape him into a wonderful dance partner in time for the Butler's Ball tonight."

Gomez laughed. "Tish! Wouldn't you know it- I was thinking the same thing- how thrilling it would be to waltz with someone who has never once waltzed before! What an honor... but I thought it more proper to hire a professional. Although, now that I think about it..." he paused, sweeping his wife off her feet and into a dip that nearly left her head touching the floor. "With how often we tango, we are surely experts."

"My thoughts exactly, mon cher," Morticia murmured. Her husband blushed at her French, and a small smirk tugged at her lips. "Do you understand how skilled he could be? Someone as strong and musically gifted as Lurch surely would be a wonderful dancer."

"And a wonderful lover as well," Gomez hummed thoughtfully. "Have you seen his hands?"

Morticia raised an eyebrow.

Upon realizing he had said that aloud, Gomez flushed bright red. "Animal magnetism," he mumbled, laughing awkwardly and lifting her back to her feet from the dip. "You can't top that." There was a short pause. "You won't tell him I said that, will you? I'm embarrassed that even you heard it."

Morticia's face broke into a devilish grin. "Darling, don't be embarrassed... you've given me an idea."

"Mm?"

"A distinguished man with strong hands, and a trusted member of the household... if all goes well, I think we may have found our third."

* * *

After the disastrous attempt of the instructress, and Wednesday's near-disastrous attempt to lift Lurch in proper ballet style, Morticia finally decided to volunteer herself as his dance partner. She intended to start with the twist to loosen him up a bit before anything with trickier footwork, and was admiring just how cute he could be when he moved his hips when there was a sudden _crack_. Lurch groaned in agony as he buckled over on himself. Gomez and Morticia both rushed to his aid immediately, bur he was hardly able to stand straight again. The poor soul wasn't used to moving this much, and had severely thrown his back out. 

"Don't worry, Lurch, you're in the finest hands since Doctor Schweitzer!" Gomez assured him.

"Oh, it's true Lurch," Morticia chimed in. "Mr. Addams' treatment for Grandmama's back had the whole medical world agog."

"Agog?" Gomez grinned. "Aghast!"

Lurch groaned once again, raising his hand to sign 'please' at the both of them. Gomez nodded, and both he and Morticia quickly ushered him down to the basement.

Upon being led to the rack, he blinked incredulously. He had cleaned it many times over, but never dared to use it himself. It was a torture device coveted by all members of the family with back trouble, but was normally occupied by Gomez on weekends with Morticia at the wheel. The rack was as casual as a sofa to them, but they knew how to turn something simple into a tool of intense pain and pleasure. Lurch couldn't fathom using it for himself. He glanced up at Morticia and Gomez from his hunched position, and slowly signed 'for me?'

"Yes, Lurch, this will fix your back in a jiffy, I swear it!" Gomez replied happily.

Morticia began to guide him with a gentle but purposeful hand. "Now lay down, as straight as you can, please."

With a fair bit of effort, Lurch positioned himself onto the rack with another agonized grunt. He allowed Morticia to secure the restraints around his arms and legs as Gomez watched, smiling. The three were silent for quite a long time, as if suddenly aware of the intimacy of the moment. Gomez glanced at his wife, straining to ask the question that was surely on both of their minds. Morticia placed her fingertips on the back of his hand to steady him. Soon, the gesture said. Not now, but soon. She was sure this moment would be a good test of their potential dynamic, and the trust that was necessary for it to exist at all. If Lurch seemed uncomfortable when the rack was in action, even for something as casual as a back pain remedy, she wouldn't dare pose the question of a threesome. Despite her own selfishness guiding many of her recent decisions, she respected the butler immensely, and she knew her husband felt the same.

"Are you settled in, Lurch?" she asked, double checking to make sure the restraints were tight. Lurch nodded, grimacing slightly as his spine made another terrible crunching noise. "Don't worry- Gomez will take it from here."

"This'll feel worse before it gets better," Gomez warned. He then grasped the crank in both hands, and began turning it rapidly with no sign of stopping. The rack pulled Lurch's limbs harder and harder, stretching him out along the wooden planks. He let out a groan of terrible agony, and Gomez faltered for a moment. 

"Don't stop," Lurch pleaded through gritted teeth. His spine was on fire, but he did trust the pair of them, and he wanted his back fixed more than anything. Gomez swiftly obliged, ducking his head to hide his blush as he picked up his rhythm again. Morticia's amused chuckle was drowned out by the clicking of the rack.

After a few moments, the crank began to catch slightly. This was the point at which Gomez usually slowed down, but there had been no sound of Lurch's spine popping back into place, so he pressed on. Lurch had fallen rather silent at this point, but Morticia was keeping a close eye on him to be sure that he was still living.

"Not so hard, dear, he's tall enough already," she warned. When he went nonverbal, Lurch would often speak through signing, and for a moment she worried that they had rendered him unable to communicate by tying up his hands. The least she could do was give him a break.

Gomez let go of the crank. "Sorry, my love, I don't know my own strength." He paused, leaning down to take a closer look at Lurch. The butler's expressions were always subtle, but he could have sworn he saw a flicker of disappointment in his eyes when left the crank. His mouth hung loosely open, and for someone who usually was a bit greenish-gray, he was quite flushed. "He's turning a beautiful shade of red," Gomez murmured, rather enamored. He pressed his lips together when Lurch turned his head, hoping desperately that he hadn't made the poor man uncomfortable.

"Much more magenta- very popular color this year," Morticia joked, hoping to ease her husband's worry. 

Gomez gave her a grateful smile. "Well, better give it another go." He approached the crank once more, straining against it as it became harder and harder to turn, until suddenly he heard a _crack_ , and Lurch's entire body relaxed. He sighed as if he was letting out steam, and his eyes fluttered shut in relief.

"Darling, you've done it again! He's as good as new!" Morticia cried with a smile.

Gomez grinned broadly, sauntering towards his wife. "Another triumph for medical science!"

"Some day the Nobel Prize."

"Couldn't accept it!"

"Why not?"

"Run off to Sweden and leave the children?"

Morticia gave him an amused smile. "Of course, you're right."

Lurch, having fully recovered from his back injury, suddenly found himself fully enjoying the rack's pull. He now understood precisely why the pair of them used it so often. The slow burn in each of his muscles was a euphoria he hadn't realized he needed. He did not often feel, but now he wanted to hurt. Unable to contain himself, he cried out through their banter. "More. More!"

Gomez's cheeks visibly flushed, and Morticia raised both eyebrows. This was all the confirmation of their potential dynamic that they needed. In fact, the two were tempted to start a threesome right where they stood... but both realized that they ought to focus on the looming deadline of the Butler's Ball first. Besides that, they had agreed to ask when the power dynamics were balanced- or more balanced than this, at least. After supper had been eaten and the dishes washed, when Lurch's work hours were finished, they would be on far more even footing- no longer a butler and his employers, but three friends heading off to bed. The potential in this tempting moment would have to wait.

"Oh no, Lurch," Gomez chided, shaking his head- and by this he was truly chiding himself, trying to crush any feelings of arousal before Lurch could catch wind of them. "This could become habit forming." He looked over at his wife, the reason he so enjoyed this rack.

Morticia smiled knowingly at him, then turned her attention back to Lurch, releasing him from his shackles. "Now, on your feet and back to the dancing lesson."

* * *

At Gomez's request, he was the next to attempt to teach Lurch. Morticia teased him for his eagerness, but he swore to her that he wouldn't let get caught up in his attraction for the butler while he was still on the clock. 

"It won't even be me dancing with him," Gomez assured her. "Though it will be my body, I will take on the role of the most beautiful woman on Earth, ready to tango with him!"

"The most beautiful?" Morticia raised an eyebrow, smirking at him slightly as she extended her arm.

"Second most beautiful," Gomez corrected quickly, grasping her hand and pressing a tender kiss to each finger. "Now, come! I intend to teach him how to lead, this will surely build his confidence."

"I certainly hope it will. I've realized now that handling two submissives at once will be a bit of a handful," Morticia joked, a twinkle in her eye.

* * *

"Now remember, Lurch- you're not dancing with Mr. Addams."

Gomez struck a pose, grinning at his wife before turning back towards Lurch. "It's not me, Lurch! It's a beautiful senorita!" He turned on his heel and rushed over to a vase of roses. Why Morticia had not yet cut the tops off, he would never know, but he could deal with it. "Fiery, alluring, smoldering!" He took the stem between his teeth dramatically, the thorns pricking at his lips settling him into his role.

"And you, Lurch, are the proud prince of the Pampas," Morticia added, smiling when the butler adopted a bit of a swagger in his step.

"You draw the seniorita closer."

Gomez grasped Lurch's hands as his wife spoke- my god, they really were as strong as he had hoped- and Lurch pulled him flush to his chest. Gomez's eyes were wild, and he looked to his wife for approval. She beamed at them both, and his heart soared. The pair of them danced swiftly, cheek to cheek, and Lurch's progress became quite clear. For someone who did not know how to dance this morning, he had gained quite a lot of confidence. He leered at Gomez- the closest he often got to a proud smile- and Gomez grinned back, turning on his heel to change direction once again. Lurch seemed to be drawing him closer with each turn. He hoped his wife was watching. Suddenly, the taller man leaned in, stealing the rose from Gomez's teeth. His breath was hot and heavy on the other man's lips for a moment, and then it was gone. Gomez's heart nearly leapt into his throat. Dutiful as ever, he swallowed it down and locked his eyes to the wall ahead of him. Cheeks flushed, nerves electrified, he danced on... until Lurch slowed to a stop.

"What's wrong, Lurch?" he asked, taking the rose back and hoping his voice didn't betray his disappointment.

Lurch didn't exactly have a good answer. He had been overwhelmed by his own boldness, and he blurted out the first excuse he had for stopping. "You didn't shave." He rubbed his sensitive upper lip, which had been grazed by the wiry hairs of Gomez's mustache.

Gomez laughed under his breath. Lurch seemed to have stricter beauty standards than he expected. "Senioritas never do!" His wife loved his mustache, and he loved every hair on her body as well. He looked to her as he took the rose back between his teeth. She was smiling still, and gave him an encouraging nod. The two picked up their rhythm again, this time more smoothly than ever. In Lurch's arms, Morticia's husband was indeed the second most beautiful woman in the world, right up until the moment where he threw his head back and his own spine betrayed him.

"Quick! The rack!"

* * *

"I'd like another turn with him," Morticia mused, turning the crank of the rack. "The two of you were pressed so close together..."

"I suppose we were, weren't we?" Gomez replied proudly. "Even if he did find my mustache repulsive."

"He did not," Morticia stated. "I could see it in his eyes. Why else would he have nearly kissed you in the first place?"

Gomez's heart skipped a beat. "It wasn't all that close to a kiss... he missed my lips. Mostly."

"Mostly is still something, and I know it made your head spin. Precisely why I need another turn." A swift turn of the crank punctuated her sentence. "You can't have him all to yourself, you know. Especially if he does end up being our third."

"Oh? Querida mia... is someone jealous?"

Morticia gave Gomez a look that made his blood run cold, and she turned the crank five times too many. Gomez's back repaired itself with an agonizing crack, but his limbs kept stretching, his muscles screaming in pain, his heart threatening to hammer its way out of his chest... until she unceremoniously pulled it all back, and the shackles let his limbs fall limp. He whined desperately as she laughed at his misery.

"Tease."

"You love it."

"More than life itself."

"More than death?" Morticia slowly inched the crank back so his limbs were held taut again, and climbed on top of him like a mantis about to devour her prey.

"Morticia... bring me to oblivion, and we'll find out."

She happily obliged, grasping him by the neck and crushing their lips into a fiery kiss. It seemed to be an altogether different flavor this time. Darker. Heavier. Lurch had turned their dynamic on its head. They wondered if he knew.

"Cara mia," Gomez moaned, bucking his hips up in desperation. With the buildup from all the tension of the dance, he was rock hard in mere seconds. Morticia removed her hand from his throat for a moment so he could speak freely, and began to give feather-light teasing touches to the bulge in his pants. 

"Please, speak with Lurch tonight after the ball," he begged. "Fuck- you were right about a third." He craned his neck and pressed a crazed kiss to her arm. "Even one tango was electrifying." Another kiss. "Being ordered by you, watched by you, held by Lurch... it drove me mad, and all we did was dance! Just think of what else we could do!" 

His hips twitched towards her palm, but she withdrew her hand. Gomez gave her a pleading look, and she took mercy on him, stroking him slowly, torturously. He rewarded her with a long, low moan, and another kiss. "We must ask him about a threesome tonight. We must." His hips rocked up into her hand, and she squeezed him hard, nails sharp even through the pinstripe fabric. He hissed through his teeth. "I need this more than I realized, Tish. I was so afraid it would ruin things, but you're both so- _mmh!_ Pinche mierda, lo necessito- _ah!_ Morticia, please- I'll die without knowing what it feels like to have you both-"

Morticia silenced Gomez once more, her hand on his throat, and her thigh grinding down on him, hard. His eyes rolled back in his head, and seconds later he came in his pants.

* * *

That night at the ball, Morticia had her turn to dance with Lurch in a cleverly prepared disguise. It was the ultimate test of his progress. With the help of a hefty donation, Gomez requested a tango contest as she had suggested, and Lurch was truly leading this time. Her face had been obscured, and she was impossible to recognize, but this didn't change the fact that she knew exactly who had his hands pressed firmly to her hips, who was spinning her and dipping her with ease. She glanced over towards the small broom closet in the corner where her husband had promised he would be watching through a peephole. She saw the door shift ever so slightly, and was almost certain she could hear him growl. But then again... it could have been Lurch as well. He had become ever so confident, and she was very proud. She leaned into his touch when he took her by the hips again. The costume they had chosen for him was far more adorable than it was dashing, but even under the small mask she could see his glittering eyes, shining with a passion that almost matched that of her husband. Almost.

As soon as the pair completed their performance, the crowd flocked around Lurch with uproarious applause. Normally this much attention would overwhelm him, but he flashed everyone a crooked grin, muttering his thanks. He glanced over to where his dance partner had been standing, but Morticia had already taken this as her opportunity to disappear. As soon as Gomez slipped out of the broom closet, the two of them stole off into the night, leaving Lurch to be fawned over by the eager crowd.

* * *

"Cara mia, you were wonderful!" Gomez cried joyfully once they were both in the car en route to the house. "In and out like the wind- and the way you bent to his touch!"

"It was thrilling," Morticia admitted, removing her headpiece and mask. "I can see now why you were desperate to dance with him. He's become very talented."

"I only wish I could have watched more closely. Being trapped in that dusty closet, peering out at the pair of you with nowhere to go, clawing at the wood, desperate for release...! It was almost too much to bear!" He took Morticia's hand in his and began to press crazed kisses all the way up her arm.

"Gomez! The road! Pay attention to the road!"

Without even looking, Gomez grasped the wheel with one hand, pressing the other into the small of her back and burying his face in her neck. "Tell me when to turn, cara," he murmured, nipping at her soft, pale skin.

"Gomez..." she protested weakly, eyes fluttering shut before shooting open again to watch the road. "Right, sharp right!" 

The car screeched into the turn, burying Gomez's teeth further into Morticia's neck. She moaned in delicious agony.

"Mon diable- _ah!_ You're going to kill us!"

He fumbled with the clasps on her costume with his free hand, popping them open one by one. "Mmh. I might."

Morticia's eyes sparkled with delight, her heart racing. "Yield, then left. Then..." she reached down and gripped tightly at the bulge in his pants. "Straight. We're near our street."

Gomez howled against her skin, the car swerving from side to side as his hand lost stability on the wheel. Morticia laughed, unfastened her seat belt, and drove the rest of the way home at twice the speed limit seated squarely on her husband's lap. By the time they screeched into the driveway they were both almost too aroused for words, and they had half the clothes they started with.

"Mon savauge... I need you."

Gomez wasted little time after that. He pressed his wife against the wheel and thrust into her, the ear-splitting sound of the car horn drowning out their cries of ecstasy.


	2. Vouyerism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Butler's Ball, Morticia and Gomez finally gather up the courage to broach the subject of a threesome with Lurch. His answer isn't exactly what they expect, but they're sure they can make things work.

The agony of waiting. The pride in Lurch's eyes. The way he held the trophy. The twin nail beds. Gomez tried to relax so he could speak to Lurch before he went to sleep, but his nerves were aflame. The tension that had been building since that morning was really getting to him. He looked over to Morticia, and could tell she felt the same.

"Tish, what if he really doesn't like my mustache?" A silly question, but still a concern. "Do you think he'll decline our offer until I shave?"

"Darling, no. I promise he doesn't hate your mustache. I'm a bit more worried that he'll feel pressured to say yes."

Gomez frowned, chewing his lip thoughtfully. "Because he's our employee?" His wife nodded. "I see. I had sort of hoped asking him off the clock would be enough..."

"Think of it this way. If you worked for me-"

"I'd fuck you in an instant if you asked," Gomez blurted out, finishing her sentence.

"Language, mon cher," she warned, smirking at him. "You'll work me up again." She let out a soft sigh, staring at the ceiling. "What I mean to say is, if you were an employee, a live-in employee with nowhere else to go, and out of the blue the master and mistress of the house asked you to have sex with them, could you say no?"

"Well, I... I suppose things _would_ be awkward... I'd have to see them every day afterwards in the same house."

Morticia nodded.

"But this is us we're talking about!" Gomez exclaimed. "Querida, when you proposed the idea to me this morning we discussed the details, we laid out our limits. We can do that with Lurch! We'll just let him know we'll support whatever decision he makes, and there are no strings attached! He'd trust us, I'm sure!"

"I suppose you're right," Morticia murmured. She took a deep breath, then rose from the nail bed like a corpse re-animated. "Let's see if we can still catch him before he heads off to bed. If not, we can try tomorrow."

Gomez beamed. "That's what I like to hear!"

* * *

Lurch stared blankly at the pair in front of him, stunned to silence by their question. Surely he had heard them wrong. After a moment of very awkward silence, he signed 'repeat' and then a hurried 'please.'

"We asked if you would like to have a threesome with us," Gomez repeated, his voice a bit less sure this time.

Lurch's mouth hung open in shock, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Three... some?" he echoed.

"You're free to make any decision you like about it," Morticia assured him quickly. "If the answer is no, we won't ever bring it up again."

"And we'll have a long talk if the answer is yes," Gomez added. "A talk about boundaries, fetishes, safewords-"

"Safewords." Lurch seemed to have been reduced to a living echo.

"Y... yes." Gomez's voice was nearly a whisper.

The three stared at each other in silence once more, and Gomez squeezed his wife's hand, worried that they had asked too soon. Morticia squeezed back. She showed no emotion in her face, but he knew she was just as nervous. The pair of them had laughed in the face of danger on many an occasion, but requesting such intimacy was a different matter altogether.

Finally, Lurch lifted a hand and signed something. 'You actually want to have sex with me?'

"Yes," the pair replied, almost in perfect unison.

Lurch blinked, cheeks still flushed and brow furrowed. He looked at his feet, and signed again, slower this time. 'Why?'

Morticia raised both eyebrows and glanced at her husband, who almost looked hurt by the question. "Why?" It seemed Gomez was the echo this time.

"Well, why not?" Morticia replied, a steadiness in her voice that Gomez could never achieve under such pressure. "You're someone that Gomez and I trust with our lives, you'd never threaten the fidelity of our marriage... and if you don't mind me saying so, you're incredibly attractive."

"And you dance like an angel!" Gomez chimed in. "You have hands delicate enough to heal, and strong enough to kill, you have the physique of an Olympic athlete! I don't understand how a man such as yourself can't see his own beauty."

"Gomez, be gentle with him," Morticia warned. "If he's not ready, we should leave him be."

"Wait."

Lurch stepped forward, locking eyes with the pair of them. He took a deep, shuddering breath, then let it out again before signing with shaky hands.

'Thank you for asking. I'm flattered. But I can't.'

Gomez's face fell almost immediately, but Lurch waved a hand, begging for him to wait a bit longer. He wasn't finished.

'Please understand. I don't want to seem ungrateful, but I have never had sex in my life. I have no experience. I would slow you down. I'm sorry.'

He hesitated for a moment, then leaned down slowly and pressed a gentle kiss to each of their foreheads. The gesture communicated all that he wished he could do for them, but was too afraid to try.

'But thank you. Really. You've made me feel... wanted.'

Morticia gave Lurch a gentle smile. "Thank you for being honest with us." She paused. "But I think you should know that any man who can learn to tango in one day can certainly learn how to fuck in one night."

"Tish..." Gomez murmured, his cheeks growing pink at the bluntness of her words.

"May I make a suggestion, Lurch?"

'Yes, Mrs. Addams.'

"If you don't feel comfortable engaging, I think you ought to watch. Gomez and I could have sex the way we always do, and you can sit and touch yourself wherever you'd like. If you pay close attention, you can learn from us without any pressure."

Slowly but surely, a small crooked smile creeped its way onto Lurch's lips. When he spoke again, his voice had found its usual steady monotone.

"Yes, Mrs. Addams. I can do that."

____

The crack of the whip drowned out Gomez's cries of agony as Morticia brought it down again on his red, raw back. "Gomez. I don't hear you counting. If you don't keep track, I may just have to start over."

"Yes, mistress. Sorry, mistress." Gomez's voice was soft and trembling. He turned his head to look at his wife, towering over him, whip in hand... and just beside her he could see Lurch palming himself through his pants, his mouth hung open in awe. The sight made him shiver. Tonight, he would put on a real show for them both. His lips curled into a devilish smile, the first indication of him ever straying from his soft submissive role that night. "I've lost count."

Morticia's steely gaze made him shudder, and he drank in the sight of her just before she shoved his face hard into the pillows, leaving him no room to breathe. His back and lungs were on fire, his cock strained between his belly and the sheets. Gomez bit down hard on the pillow, letting out a muffled sob as the whip hit him again.

Lurch was not used to anything dirtier than the adult magazines he would allow himself on special occasions. Something as graphic as this would normally appall him, but Mr. and Mrs. Addams had made a point of laying out the terms of everything before they began. The safeword was "arsenic." Nonverbal safeword was two snaps. Morticia was to be called "mistress," Gomez could not speak unless spoken to, or touch himself until he was given permission. He was currently facing punishment for stroking his cock in plain view of their guest for the night while Morticia prepared her toys. The initial sentence was twenty lashes, and the three of them knew Morticia had gotten all the way to ten, but Gomez loved to extend his punishment for as long as he was able to bear.

Morticia pulled him up from the pillows by his hair, eliciting a whine from her husband.

"I hope you've been counting this time. How many was that?"

"Seven!" Gomez shrieked. "Seven, mistress!"

Morticia chuckled. The sound was cold as stone. "Good boy."

A desperate groan escaped Lurch's lips as he watched. Morticia, still in her dominant headspace, turned to him and pointed the whip accusatorially. "Did I say you could make a sound?"

A moment of deafening silence had her worried she had gone too far, but Lurch did not utter the safeword. Instead, he silently unzipped his pants, and pulled out his thick, throbbing cock, stroking it feverishly. Morticia's lips parted in awe. Her husband was well endowed, but this was bigger than she had ever seen... though it was to be expected for a man as tall as Lurch. Gomez seemed to be thinking the same thing. "What a perfect cock," he whispered, his eyes black with desire.

Morticia silenced him with a swift crack of her whip. "Don't speak when you haven't been spoken to. That's five more lashes." She paused, breaking character for only a moment. "But it is very impressive, Lurch."

Lurch flushed, ducking his head. "Thank you, mistress." He hesitated, then signed shyly, 'Phalloplasty. They let me choose the size.'

Gomez grinned, and Morticia nodded in approval. "Wonderful choice. I'd be honored to see what it can do someday." She turned her attention back to her husband, bringing the whip down again.

"Eight..." Gomez all but sobbed, his body shaking. Each time Morticia brought the whip down he tensed up, then went nearly limp. The rhythm of the strikes sped up, and as he counted each one he turned his head to look at Lurch. Each strike matched the steady stroking of his cock. 

By the time Morticia got to twenty-five, Gomez was hoarse from screaming. Tears streamed down his face, and he shook as her now gentle hands caressed the lashes covering his back. "There. Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"No, mistress. Th-thank you, mistress."

Lurch's strokes began to slow down as his brow furrowed in concern. He had never seen Gomez cry like this before. Before he could even think to ask if he was okay, Gomez gave him a playful smile through his tears. He seemed perfectly happy to show off this vulnerable side of himself to the butler, and he wiggled his ass in the air to prove his point. Crying didn't mean the show was over. Lurch chuckled softly, relieved that things were still running smoothly. Perhaps it was good that he was only watching tonight. He had a lot to learn.

Morticia gave Gomez's ass a back-handed strike- far more forgiving than the kiss of the whip, but her wedding ring still left a nice mark. His back arched, and his straining cock became all the more apparent.

"You took your punishment very well." In one swift motion, she flipped him over. Even the soft satin sheets against his back made the lashes burn, and he hissed through his teeth. 

"I'll grant you one request. Tell me, what do you want me to do to you?"

Gomez blinked back the last of his hot tears, taking in a shuddering breath. He wanted her to touch him, to tear into him with her teeth, to tease him until he screamed and begged for release. He wanted to be taken inside of her, and he wanted her to degrade him til he came... but there was something far more showy, far more vulnerable that he wanted to show to Lurch tonight. "I want you to fuck me, mistress," he whispered. "I want you to tie me up til I can't move, I want you to fuck my mouth, and I want your cock inside of me."

Morticia beamed. Out of all the things she did with her husband, this was one of her favorites. "I said only one request... but this is a wonderful choice," she murmured, stepping away from the bed. "Let me prepare myself. You may touch yourself while I'm away, but don't you dare let yourself cum."

"Yes mistress- thank you mistress!"

"And Lurch?" She locked eyes with the butler, and he squeezed his cock tightly as her gaze burned holes into him. "Watch him closely."

"Yes, mistress," Lurch echoed, nodding obediently. "Thank you, mistress."

Morticia smiled proudly at them both, giving them a gentle nod before stepping into the master bathroom to secure her harness.

Gomez whined as she walked away, stroking himself feverishly to the last glimpse of her ass in her black lace robe. Lurch did as he was told, and watched him closely. He watched each drop of pre-cum leak from the tip of his cock, watched the steady throb as he became more and more desperate. He glanced up and locked eyes with Gomez, who inhaled sharply under his gaze.

"Hey. Having fun?" Gomez asked softly, his voice a low rumble in his throat as he continued to stroke himself.

Lurch's cheeks turned pink. He was surprised that Gomez cared enough to ask. "Yes," he murmured. "I am. Thank you."

"No, no, no, Lurch... thank _you_. God... you don't understand how much Tish and I love this... we've been thinking about you all day. We nearly crashed the car..." He gasped softly as he felt his stomach tighten. Not yet. He couldn't cum yet. He exhaled slowly, letting his hand fall from his cock. "I can only hope you're getting as much out of this as we are."

Lurch nodded almost immediately. "I am. You..." he paused, suddenly afraid to say more, but Gomez's hopeful eyes gave him a new burst of confidence. "You're breathtaking. Both of you. I could watch this for hours."

Gomez grinned from ear to ear. "Hours, hmm? All the more reason to deny myself an orgasm." He leaned towards the chair Lurch sat in, mere inches between their faces as he whispered in his ear. His breath was hot, and he smelled of sweat and sex. "But don't let that stop you, angelito mío. You heard the mistress, you have no restrictions. I'd be honored if you'd let me watch you cum."

Lurch groaned, his eyes fluttering shut. His cock twitched desperately, the dirty talk bringing a blush to his cheeks like nothing ever before. "Mr. Addams..." He took his cock in his large hand, stroking at an agonizingly slow pace, savoring each moment. His head fell back in bliss, his lips parted gently, and each stroke elicited a soft hum from deep within his throat.

Gomez let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. God, he was beautiful. His eyes traveled down his tall, strong body, still fully clothed but just as enticing. He admired his throbbing member as it slid in and out of his clenched fist. He wondered how it would feel in his own hand. "You can call me anything you like, you know. You're not on the cock- er, on the clock." He laughed at himself, blushing with embarrassment. He had been happy with Morticia for so long that he had forgotten how flustered handsome men could make him.

"I... I couldn't," Lurch choked out between moans. "You... _nngh!_ You deserve respect."

"Oh, no, not tonight," Gomez reminded him with a twinkle in his eye. "I only deserve what my mistress tells me."

"Well said."

The two men lifted their heads as Morticia re-entered the room. One hand rested on her hip, and the other held a thin coil of black rope. Her black lace robe was now open to reveal the straps and buckles of an intricate leather harness... and attached to it was a thick, red cock. The tip curved upwards in just the right way, and Gomez swallowed desperately to keep from salivating at the thought of it in his mouth. Morticia noticed the hunger in his eyes, and gave him a devilish smirk.

"Someone's certainly recovered from his punishment," she mused, slowly making her way to the bed.

"Only just barely, mistress," Gomez murmured, eyes on the bright red strap-on with every step. Lurch was focused on it too, the sight of it eliciting a soft whine.

"Enjoying yourself?" Morticia asked Lurch, looking down at him as she uncoiled the rope.

"Yes, mistress." Lurch's reply was soft and breathy as he stroked himself. 

"Would you like anything? Some lubricant? A vibrator? Possibly a taser?" Morticia was not often so generous when she was dominant, but Lurch was a guest. She wanted to be sure he was taken care of before she moved on to the next stage of her husband's blissful torture.

"Lube. Please," Lurch managed to choke out, hissing as he realized how little moisture he had between his cock and his hand. He wasn't used to lasting this long, but he was determined to pace himself. Normally he would just spit into his hand and get it all over with, ashamed of even seeking such earthly pleasures alone in his room, but this time he had witnesses. Though he had thought himself to be only the vouyer, he was also the exhibitionist, and their eyes on him drove him to draw this out for as long as possible.

After tying the final knot, Morticia opened the drawer of the bedside table, pulling out a small bottle of lubricant. Lurch reached for it, expecting to take it from her, but Morticia lifted it away and stepped dangerously close to him. "No. Let me." She looked at him, giving him enough time to shake his head, to say the safeword if he was uncomfortable. He did not. He only nodded. She smirked at him, opening the bottle just above the head of her strap on, which hung only inches above Lurch's throbbing member. A small squeeze sent lube cascading over the tip, dripping off of her and running down his shaft. Lurch shivered. It was messy, and surely not the most efficient way to do this, but the indirect contact drove him absolutely mad. Just as Morticia intended. She took her cock in her hand, red nails wrapped around red silicone, and swiped her thumb over the tip as she spread the cool, viscous liquid down her shaft. As if in a trance, Lurch took himself in his hand again and began to match her strokes. She nodded in approval, and he let out a grateful groan. "Thank you, mistress... thank you."

"Beautiful," Gomez murmured under his breath as he watched. Morticia had done this trick with him before, but it was entirely different to see it from his current perspective. It made him ache.

Morticia turned swiftly towards him. "Speaking without my permission already, are we?" Her tone was a warning- though there was a bit of softness there, a hint of her own desperation. To the untrained ear it was hard to catch, but Gomez knew his wife, and he knew she was desperate for release as much as he was.

"My most sincere apologies, mistress." He looked up at her with shining black eyes, feigning innocence despite being tied up tightly in thin black rope. "Can I ever make it up to you?"

Morticia hummed thoughtfully, taking her blood red cock in her own hand. "You can try." She climbed up onto the bed, legs straddled over his face. Gomez moaned at the scent of her- wet and heavy, sickly sweet like poison mixed with the aroma of silicone and leather. She tapped the tip of her cock against his lips, and he parted them eagerly, tongue darting out to greet it. The sight of it made Morticia's clit throb. In one fluid motion, she thrust herself into his mouth, ignoring the strangled sound he made as he suddenly choked on her. She knew he adored it, he had told her so. Slowly, she built up a rhythm, and Gomez strained against his ropes as she fucked into his mouth. She tangled her sharp red nails in his hair, pushing him further along the length, using him just the way he liked. Her clit found the spot on the harness that gave the most friction, and she hissed with pleasure, each thrust sending a wave of ecstacy through her whole body. This was her favorite part, the part where she felt that the cock sliding down Gomez's throat was truly her own, the part where she felt that she could cum from just that feeling, filling his mouth with her load... and the part where she shifted her position to deny herself that release, continuing to fuck into him until he was blue in the face and looked close to fainting.

When she felt that her husband couldn't take any more, she slid out with a _pop_. A string of saliva followed the head of the strap on, and she smirked as she smeared it along the shaft. "Still alive, darling?"

Gomez nodded weakly, gasping for breath. "Barely." He paused, pulling in another shaky inhale and grinning at her, lips red and raw from being fucked. "But that can change."

Morticia nodded in agreement. "And you, Lurch?" She turned around to the butler who was shuddering into his own hand, close to climaxing, but each time he drew near, he stopped. He looked into Morticia's eyes, his gaze clouded with arousal. If he learned anything from the pair of them tonight, he wanted to learn restraint. She returned his unwavering gaze until she heard her husband groan, and turned to see him straining desperately at his restraints. When he realized he had her attention, he arched his back, smirking.

"Is this really as tight as you can make them, mistress? At this rate I'll escape and let Lurch fuck me first," he quipped, hoping his smart mouth would earn him some sort of punishment.

"Will you, now?" Morticia gave him a look that turned his blood to ice. She grabbed the lube from earlier and squirted some onto her fingertips, eyebrow raised in curiosity. After putting the bottle down, she dug the nails of her free hand into his backside, and he howled. "I know you're desperate for him, darling, but that's no reason to be such a brat."

The words spurred him on. "I tried to convince him to cum for me before you came back. I wanted to be the only one to watch."

"And did you get what you wanted?" Dangerously sharp-tipped fingers circled his hole, spreading the lubricant with only the occasional scratch.

"Mmh... no, mistress. You came back so quickly." She slid her middle finger into his hole, nail and all, and he hissed at the pain. Thankfully for his wife, he could endure it, and Morticia never had to compromise her signature look for his pleasure.

"That's what greed gets you. Absolutely nothing." Her finger slid into him further, and his mouth hung open as he moaned, eyes desperate. She did not meet his gaze. "Lurch, darling." She turned her head to the butler, who was still trembling from excitement. "You've lasted this long. I think you can last longer. Don't cum until Gomez is fully spent."

Lurch nodded obediently, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt as his body grew hot at her demand. "Yes, mistress."

Gomez let out a low hum, admiring Lurch's chest as the shirt fell from his shoulders. His skin was riddled with scars, and he wondered what it would feel like to trace them with his tongue. Suddenly there was a second finger inside of him, and he yelped, eyes snapping back to Morticia's busy hand. She laughed, and he could tell she wanted nothing more than to tear into him like a piece of meat. Her two fingers began to take up a steady rhythm inside his hole, sliding in, out, in, out, over and over until his body practically melted into the ropes. He looked at her with hungry eyes, and she knew he was ready. She slid out her fingers, and in one fluid motion, she thrust her thick cock into him. Gomez screamed.

Morticia hooked Gomez's legs over her shoulders and started slowly- dangerously slowly- but as she picked up speed, she dug her nails into his ass, eliciting a sob from her submissive. She was losing herself in the moment as much as he was, and her clit had found that perfect spot on the harness again. With each shuddering breath, each burst of stimulation, her thrusts grew more and more erratic, and as she rammed into his prostate, tears of joy began to stream down Gomez's cheeks. She could feel the twitching of his cock in the brief moments where it was trapped between their stomachs, and she watched as his arms strained to touch himself so he could finally bring himself over the edge. The ropes bit into him, and he cried harder, squeezing his eyes shut. 'Please,' he mouthed silently. 'Please, please please…'

Cruel as ever, Morticia ignored him, instead sliding out of him to flip him over so his face was in the pillows once more. Her proud red member found his entrance again, and she started up her rhythm as if nothing had changed, leaving his cock hanging between his legs. She glanced to the side to check on Lurch before she truly lost herself, but to her surprise, the chair was empty. She stopped abruptly, eliciting a groan of protest from Gomez.

"Lurch?"

As if on cue, he appeared on the other side of the bed, more disheveled than she had ever seen him. All that remained of his clothes was a pair of boxers, and even those did little to cover him with his cock hanging out. He crawled over the sheets, almost in a trance-like state, and his hand slipped between Gomez's thighs. Still tightly bound and buried in the pillows, the desperate man struggled to turn his head to see what was going on. Morticia grabbed a fistful of his hair, angling his gaze towards the giant on their bedside.

"Lurch," Gomez choked out, eyes wide with disbelief. The butler groaned in response, his calloused fingertips tracing the vein pulsating along Gomez's shaft. "Dios mío…"

"Quiet." Morticia pushed his head forcefully back into the pillows. "Lurch?" 

Her tone stopped the butler in his tracks, and he looked up at her nervously. Perhaps he had overstepped. He was about to remove himself from the bed, but she smiled at him, a spine chilling, but encouraging gesture.

"Follow my lead."

Morticia began her rhythm once more, the head of her cock ramming into Gomez's prostate. Lurch matched each thrust, his strong hand pumping Gomez in a way that made his legs threaten to give out. In an effort to stabilize him, Morticia leaned down to untie his restraints with her teeth, kissing at the lashes from her whip she had left earlier. His arms broke free, and he lifted himself from his chamber of soft suffocation, gasping and cursing and begging his partners for more. Just as Morticia had worked herself up to her peak, he let out a strangled cry.

"Please… I'm close!"

Morticia angled her cock just so, and as she hit his prostate once more, Lurch's long fingers became coated in strings of hot cum. Gomez bucked into the other man's hand, a string of incoherent Spanish falling from his lips until it devolved into sobs. Morticia came shortly after, grinding her clit hard against the leather of the harness and moaning into her husband's back. She shuddered, and the pair collapsed together, falling onto their stiff mattress and drawing in rough, ragged breaths. The silence was only interrupted by a loud groan from Lurch, who finally came into the same hand that was still dripping with Gomez's load.

The three of them lay still for a moment, as if frozen in time. Finally, Morticia slid her cock out of her husband. He whined softly, and she pressed a kiss to his temple.

"How do you feel, mon coeur?"

Gomez's only response was a series of grateful kisses to her neck. She laughed, catching his lips in her own, and holding him gently. Lurch looked at the pair of them, so happy together, and suddenly felt like he should disappear. The usual shame that followed most of his orgasms had crept in, and he refused to let it ruin their moment. He stood up to gather his clothes, but the creak of the mattress caused the couple to lift their heads.

"Angelito mio… are you leaving?" Gomez asked, a small frown on his face. 

Lurch groaned in response, nodding as he pulled on his shirt. Why Mr. Addams had given him such a sweet nickname, he would never understand. The ecstacy of the night had drained away from him, leaving him with the sinking feeling that he had done everything wrong. He was sure they were only taking pity on him.

"Why? Come rest with us. You did so well." Morticia patted the free space on the mattress beside them. When Lurch shook his head, she frowned as well. "You're sure? I was pleasantly surprised by your confidence earlier, darling."

Lurch signed a quick 'thanks' in their direction, hurriedly pulling on his pants. Whatever confidence he had gained had now left him. He wanted to run from the house and hide in the swamp for weeks, positive that a creature as desperate as himself belonged nowhere else.

"Lurch, please." Gomez sat up. "At least let me thank you."

The butler shook his head, signing at him as he looked at the ground. 'No, thank you. I'm sorry. Goodnight.' He rushed out the door, leaving only his bowtie behind.

"Gomez… do you think we upset him?" Morticia asked worriedly.

"I… I don't know." Gomez chewed at his lip nervously. "With his willingness to participate, I thought he was enjoying himself. He never used the safeword… not even a single snap. But…"

"Perhaps I overwhelmed him with all the orders. He may have felt obligated to… oh Gomez, I'm sorry. I wish I had never suggested this."

"Cara mia. Don't say that." He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "It was a wonderful idea. That orgasm was the best I've had in a long time." He began to unfasten the straps of her harness, sliding her out of it. "Maybe… maybe Lurch just got cold feet."

"That's possible… there's not much one can contribute to pillow talk after being the vouyer," Morticia mused.

Gomez snapped his fingers. "Pillow talk- Tish, that's it!" He grasped his wife's shoulders. "Lurch has never done this before, never in his life- all he knows about sex is what he reads in those magazines we get in the mail! Commercial pornography has no pillow talk- it has no tenderness, or reflection, it just ends! All he knew how to react to was what we spoke about before we started."

"My god, you're absolutely right! How foolish of me- I went over all our rules, but didn't think to ask what he wanted to do afterwards!" Morticia shook her head, placing her strap-on on their nightstand. "Poor dear… it's hard enough to join the dynamic of an established couple, and we didn't leave him any room to figure out his place."

"Do you think I could catch him and apologize before he goes to bed?" Gomez asked hopefully.

"No, no. Best to give him some space… we'll make things up to him tomorrow." She kissed her husband's lips gently, and her eyes twinkled mischievously. "Besides, I'm sure if you tried to go to him now, you'd find yourself unable to stand."

Gomez laughed, shimmying underneath the sheets. "You've got me there." He pulled his wife close to him, humming happily. The exhaustion from the long night finally set in, and the pair of them drifted off to sleep.


	3. Pinching the Maid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month after their almost-threesome, Lurch informs Morticia and Gomez that his mother will be coming to town. He needs to convince her that he's a man in charge, but this potential role-reversal is far more intriguing than any of them can imagine. Based off the plot of Mother Lurch Visits the Addams Family, but with a few minor adjustments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm surprised that this fic got as much attention as it did, thanks to everyone who's enjoyed it thus far! I honestly didn't think more than like three people would read it, lol. Anyways, here's more of it! This chapter is features Thing briefly, who I somehow decided to develop further because I just think he's full of personality, as well as a totally re-used plot device from the Addams Family Musical- acrimonium! I tried to make any actions taken under the influence of the potion avoid dub-con territory because I don't vibe with that- it's honestly closer to drunk horniness than anything else, but I know that can still be uncomfy for some ppl, so if anyone knows a way that I can properly tag that, I'd appreciate any suggestions.
> 
> Oh also I've only just realized this after posting, but this chapter is incredibly fucking long. Sorry about that. Or, not sorry? Anyways, here's this massive thing lol I hope you enjoy

A month after their little fling, Mr. and Mrs. Addams were still doing their best to apologize to poor Lurch. His room was now full of vases of thorny rose stems, and they had been very respectful of his space- almost too respectful. He seemed to brush it off each time they mentioned the incident outright, but they were desperate to understand how he was feeling so they could make his work life as comfortable as possible. Unfortunately for them, Lurch had recently clammed up completely. He was silent, more so than usual, and he shambled around the house without the typical vacant look in his eyes. Instead he was alert, almost anxious- a sight Morticia couldn't bear to watch. She explained the behavior to her husband after a round with their crossbow.

"I spoke to him a few minutes ago, and he didn't even answer me… didn't act like he heard me!"

Gomez pressed his lips together, hoping to god he was not the reason for that. "Do you suppose he's ill?"

"I don't know." Morticia stroked her chin thoughtfully. "He's been terribly depressed ever since he got that letter from his mother this morning. Not himself at all."

"How could you tell?"

Morticia shuddered "He _smiled._ " It was a straight, toothy smile, the kind a public school photographer forces upon you in photos before immortalizing your miserable pre-pubescence. His lips seemed pulled, almost by strings, to lock him into the expression while his eyes communicated nothing at all. The image would haunt her for days.

Gomez nodded, his eyes growing more concerned. This felt far more serious than the damage they had done in bed a month prior. A selfish little part of him was glad Lurch had a different problem. This one might be one he could solve. "Something has given him a bad turn. We should find him, and get to the root of it!"

* * *

The rack. Of course. After scouring the house looking for their butler, the pair of them heard Grandmama steadily turning the crank as the poor soul lay staring up at the ceiling. Lurch had taken to the rack as often as he could lately, for relaxation, for stimulation... Gomez was right- it did become habit-forming. This time he hadn't been able to recruit Thing to turn the crank for him, and as he begged for more, he was interrupted by Grandmama's stern voice.

"Oh gosh, Lurch, give me a turn! You've been having all the fun!"

He opened his mouth to protest when Gomez and Morticia allowed themselves to enter.

"Oh, Lurch, you're relaxing! That's a relief!" She tried to ignore how tightly his strong limbs were stretched. Just a few more turns, and he'd be past mere relaxation… but she couldn't let herself indulge in that thought. Not now. "We've been worried about you."

"He says the rack is the only thing that helps him forget his troubles," Grandmama told them. Lurch glanced to the side to avoid their gaze, his shame burning red on his cheeks. It was true, but he wished she hadn't said it aloud.

"Well, it'll do it every time!" Gomez was having far more difficulty avoiding indulgent thoughts until his wife shot him a stern look. Right. Better not get into another mess. "But, ah… you do have a problem, eh old man?"

Lurch groaned and nodded, not meeting Gomez's gaze. He did indeed have a problem, but it was embarrassing. As a matter of fact, everything had been embarrassing to him since he had left their bedroom after the Butlers' Ball, but for a month he had kept every little mistake neatly bottled up. The letter he received this morning had been the straw that broke the camel's back.

"Oh, now, it's not that bad!" Gomez began to gently unfasten Lurch's restraints. "Come on, we'll get you off the rack and we'll talk about it."

Lurch's limbs fell slack as he was unshackled. His heart was hammering all the way up in his ears, completely drowning out whatever Morticia said next. Though he was being freed, he felt more trapped than ever. He feared that the pair of them coaxing him to speak about his feelings would send all his worries, all his guilt spilling out before he was ready to face it- or worse, his words would fail him completely and he would skip straight to sobbing. That, in turn, would worry the poor couple more, and there would be no end to the questions. He wondered if it would be possible to just dodge them forever.

"Selfish!"

Lurch was snapped back to reality by Grandmama's shrill insult, and the stomping of her feet as she left the room. Harsh, but maybe she was right. Perhaps he had been selfish to just hope everything would fall into place if he kept his mouth shut long enough. Though, now that he thought about it, she was probably only talking about the rack.

Gomez noticed the troubled look in his eyes, and gently coaxed Lurch to a sitting position. "Come on, old man. Speak up." His hand rested on the small of his back, and the butler went red again, looking down at his knees.

"Now Lurch, does it have anything to do with that letter you received from your mother this morning?" Morticia spoke with a tone that commanded an answer. All Lurch could do was nod.

"Why, I should think you'd be pleased that she's going to visit!" Gomez knew little about her, but anybody like Lurch was welcome in his home.

Morticia certainly felt the same. "We'd love to have her stay with us. We could put her up in that nice attic room," she suggested.

"No."

"No?" Gomez was shocked by how abruptly Lurch had answered. Perhaps they had offended him. He hoped that the poor man didn't think they were going to make her sleep on that soft, soggy mattress that they kept up there. He and his wife had already discussed setting up the attic with a fresh stiff one, and a nice weighted blanket in case Lurch's mother had his sleepwalking problem.

Lurch fidgeted under Gomez's worried gaze, and the truth finally spilled out. "I- I fibbed."

Fibbed? Had he fibbed to the pair of them? Gomez looked at his wife with wide eyes, his own guilty conscience racing to convince him that this was somehow about their time in the bedroom. He had lied about enjoying himself. He had lied to make them comfortable, and now his mother was coming, not to stay, but to take him away from the brutes that had used him.

One stern look from Morticia stopped each one of his intrusive thoughts. _Gomez,_ her eyes said. _You're being ridiculous._ Even so, no harm in clarifying. "To your mama?"

Lurch nodded again.

Morticia gave him a reassuring smile. "Oh, well, Mr. Addams and I understand. We understand about those little white lies that a roaming son writes his mother."

The devastated groan that Lurch let out suggested there was more to it than that.

Gomez, who had finally gotten his head on straight, snapped his fingers in recognition. "Lurch! That picture of the house that you sent to your mother… you told her it was _your_ house, right?"

After a moment of silence, Lurch nodded. His mother had made broad assumptions about where he was meant to be at this stage in his life. 'I'm eager to visit your home,' she had written, 'as I expect a man of your age to have ample space for me to kick up my feet. Besides that, you haven't found a suitable wife yet, so the house will need a woman's touch. Don't worry sonny, mama's coming to help.'

"Well, we always think of you as one of the family, Lurch," Morticia assured him. He had the heart of an Addams, after all. The transplant had been incredibly successful.

"A servant." Mama wouldn't stand for that.

"A very _good_ servant." And a very obedient submissive too, but she knew that wouldn't win over his mother.

"I'm a liar," Lurch moaned, hanging his head.

"And a very _good_ liar!"

"Gomez!"

"Ah, sorry. I got carried away."

Morticia frowned as she noticed poor Lurch looking as if he was about to wither away. His mother seemed to have an incredible amount of influence over him, and very high expectations. She understood completely. Many women on her side of the family held quite a lot of power, and one wrong move would result in a look of disappointment that would haunt you to your grave. Shs gave the worried butler a gentle pat on the knee. Though she did not often say it, Lurch truly was more than a servant to her, and to her husband as well. She hoped that after all that had transpired between them, he would still consider her a friend. 

"Now, don't you fret about a thing. We'll put our heads together and see what we can do to help you." 

That was a promise.

* * *

Gomez was sure that his wife was a genius. Though the rest of the family didn't seem eager to participate in her plan, it seemed absolutely foolproof. A complete role reversal would allow Lurch's mother to believe whatever she wanted about him- that he was wealthy, that he owned this house, and even that he could afford good servants. While Fester, Grandmama, and the children opted to stay in the guest house til this was all over, Morticia had graciously volunteered to play the role of a maid, and Gomez would play the butler. He was currently rummaging in their closet for an appropriate costume.

"I may have to alter this skirt a bit, but it’s a start. What do you think, mon coeur? Est-ce bien?"

Gomez lifted his head from his collection of suits. His wife was just behind him, turning to and fro by the full-body mirror with a sheer black skirt pressed to her waist. It was short and frilly, not like what she usually wore, but so long as she was underneath it, it was something he wanted to see.

"I think," he murmured, approaching her slowly, "that if you keep speaking French to me, I'll go mad with desire." He sauntered up behind her placing his hands on her hips and pressing a series of passionate kisses to the back of her neck. “I also think this outfit needs no altering, so long as it's nothing but the skirt."

Morticia gave Gomez a small smirk. "I see someone's in a mood today." Another languorous kiss on her shoulder was confirmation. "Not that I mind, of course..."

"Speak some more, Tish, say anything." Gomez nipped at her ear. "Tell me what you want from me. Your deepest desire. If I am to play a butler, I must be well versed in service."

Morticia raised an eyebrow. Her husband's eyes were dark and full of want, and she hummed softly at the thought of fucking him senseless in this closet, squeezing his cock as his cum stained each expensive suit… but that wouldn't do. Not now. "Trouvez-vous un costume, mon cher."

"Oh, Tish," he groaned, all content in her words absolutely lost on him. His lips traveled down her back, and he was just about to attempt to remove her dress when her steady hand stopped him. He was lucky his wife knew restraint.

"Gomez, dear. Your costume."

"Oh. Yes, yes. I'm sorry." He cleared his throat, brushing himself off as if to rid himself of the arousal blanketing him like a fog. "I just can't contain myself. Don't you find it the least bit arousing that we'll be playing servants for a while, outfits and all?" 

The last bit remained unspoken for fear of opening a door that had been sealed for a month. Servants for Lurch. Servants for a man who, while gentle and sensitive, had the potential to be a force to be reckoned with. A truly formidable master indeed.

"A bit," Morticia admitted. "But you forget, darling, that this is Lurch's every day, and he somehow manages just fine."

"Mm. Well, when you put it that way…"

"Besides that, it'll be a good chance to understand him better. He's been our butler for years, and he works so hard. The least we can do is make a genuine effort at returning the favor- and with no ulterior motives." She gave his ass a gentle tap.

"Okay, okay! No ulterior motives- from this moment on, I will think with my penis no longer!" Gomez jabbed his finger in the air as if to declare this message to God. "This fiend has corrupted my mind with sin, and while admirable, this will not stand!" He mimed slashing a sword to and fro, eliciting an amused chuckle from his wife. "The traitor will be beheaded by sundown!"

"You're absolutely ridiculous." Morticia pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. "It's irresistible. Now, get yourself a costume. I won't ask you again."

For the rest of their time in the closet, the pair was all business. No more jokes, and as little flirting as they could muster. They were doing this for Lurch, and they would do it right.

* * *

Though Gomez had made a vow, he could feel his resolve breaking the moment their charade began. Witnessing his wife in that sweet maid outfit made him feel as if he was meeting her all over again. Morticia felt the same. The tuxedo her husband had chosen was tailored perfectly to his physique, and he had all the marks of a true gentleman when he did something as simple as pull out a chair. Had they met under these circumstances, a maid and a butler in a wealthy man's house, they would have surely have stolen away to dark corners to profess their love to one another. 

Of course, at the moment, the wealthy master of the house did not exist. Lurch was having a considerable amount of trouble adjusting to his new role. The family had purchased him several new suits custom tailored for the occasion, and he didn't quite hold himself like he owned them yet.

Morticia took her place next to the chair he sat in, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Now, Lurch, don't look so discouraged. We're all having difficulties with our new roles, but if we work together, things will flow naturally."

He nodded.

"But this means you'll have to be stern with me."

Just as quickly, he shook his head.

"Lurch." She gave him a warning look. "I know you have it in you, and it's the first step towards sounding like you own this house."

"It's easy," Gomez assured him. "Just try it- tell her how you want your breakfast prepared, and leave no room for error. Make it known that _you're_ the boss!"

Lurch groaned, shaking his head again. "I can't." 

"You _can!"_

"Can _you_ speak to her that way?"

Gomez blinked, looking over at his wife. No, not his wife. The maid. "Of course I can. Allow me to demonstrate." He cleared his throat. "Morticia, for breakfast this morning I want you to prepare me some rattlesnake eggs on toast, sunny side down. Make sure the toast is black as night, if it's unsightly and brown, I'll… I'll be forced to…"

Morticia raised an eyebrow, no emotion visible on her face as Gomez trailed off. "Forced to what, sir?"

"I'll be forced to… to tell you you've… done your best, and… ah, damn it." Gomez buried his face in his hands. "Cara mia, I can't." He lowered his voice. "Not here." He had only ever taken on this stern, authoritative tone in the bedroom, but he had promised- no ulterior motives. 

"Come now, Gomez, set an example."

He sighed. "Yes. An example." He cleared his throat again. "If the toast is unsightly and brown, I will be forced to throw it out, and you will make it again. As master of the house, I will not accept a sloppy breakfast, and I expect it to be finished before the paper arrives. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Morticia nodded obediently, giving him a demure smile. "Right away, sir."

It took all Gomez had in him not to pounce on her and shower her with kisses. It was a rare treat for their roles to be reversed in this way, and even just a brief, domestic moment of it made his blood run hot with desire. He dug his nails into his fist, forcing a polite smile. Restraint. Restraint. "You see, Lurch? Easy. Now, you try."

Lurch let out a long sigh, shaking his head slowly. He was no fool, he could see how hard this was, even for Gomez. How the pair ever thought he could fill this role, he would never know. Still, they were wonderfully trusting, and all dressed up for him. The least he could do was try.

"From the top!" Morticia prompted, exiting the room and waiting just behind the door. Lurch pulled the bell, and the three settled back into their roles and began again.

* * *

"May I ask you something, angelita mia?" Gomez was pacing back and forth in their bedroom, puffing at a cigar as a break from their assigned roles.

"Anything, Gomez."

"Do you think we're doing the right thing? For Lurch, I mean?"

"I certainly hope not," Morticia replied. "It seems the 'right thing to do' would be to tell his mother the truth before she arrives, and I think Lurch would rather die. This will be far easier on him."

"Well, you would think that, wouldn't you, but… he looks so ashamed. Everything he does, even when he does it correctly, he… he shrinks back." Gomez shook his head.

"Guilty conscience," Morticia told him. "It's swift to punish you when you're not a seasoned liar, and the poor soul will be lying to his mother for a full day. The trick is to learn how to get away with the lie and move on before the guilt holds you down."

"You certainly sound like you've had experience with that."

"Nonsense. I'm the most truthful person on Earth." She paused for dramatic effect. "I've never told you this, Gomez, but I have a serious medical condition. My mother calls it a curse. I am brutally honest with everyone, because if I speak anything but the truth, my heart will stop. Full disclosure."

Her tone was so convincing that for a moment Gomez believed her… until he saw that glitter of mischief in her eyes. "You little minx. You're lying to me as we speak!"

Morticia smiled. "And yet, no guilt.” She extended an arm to her husband, who placed a kiss on each finger before being led out of their room. "Come. We'll find Lurch, and show him how to kill his conscience."

The pair traveled slowly down the long hallways of their house, searching for their butler. They avoided ringing the bell to summon him out of fear that their progress would be erased- Lurch had finally stopped responding to it, and Gomez was just getting the hang of taking it as his cue. Luckily, Lurch happened to be easy to find. He was crouched on the bed in his room, neck craned down so as not to hit the low ceiling. He didn't seem to hear the door open, and just as the couple was about to call to him, they realized he was speaking to someone. Or some _thing_.

"I can’t," Lurch whispered to the disembodied hand perched on his knee. Thing gave a dismissive wave, and began to sign at him.

'Seriously? Why do I even bother? You talk about them all the time.'

"Ughh…"

'And they literally asked to fuck you.'

Gomez's eyes widened. 'Us?' he mouthed silently to Morticia, who nodded, just as intrigued as he was.

"I know!" Lurch's voice rose for a moment, then fell back to a whisper. "A month ago. And I panicked."

'You big idiot. You think you just stopped being sexy in a month?'

Lurch grimaced. "I am _not_ 'sexy', Thing."

Thing gave Lurch's thigh several impatient slaps, which Lurch quickly shushed. The disembodied hand calmed down, and began to sign again, this time a bit more slowly.

'Lurch. You insult me. People don't just ask to fuck you because they feel sorry for you. Same with hands.'

"You can't even see me."

'Oh yeah? I sure felt you last night, though!' Thing gave a dramatic, limp-wristed gesture, and began to sign in what appeared to be a mocking imitation of Lurch's slow, steady hand movements. 'Touch me, Thing. I need practice, Thing. Let me suck your fingers, Thing. Thank you, Thing, you stroke me so _good_ -'

Lurch placed his hand over Thing, effectively silencing him. "Stop."

'Nice. That actually sounded like an order,’ Thing signed after wriggling free. ‘You should try that while you get to play master of the house. Order them to have sex with you or something, it would be hot.'

Lurch groaned, shaking his head. "I couldn't."

'Come on, why?!'

"It feels wrong."

Thing flicked Lurch gently. 'You keep saying that, but you keep asking for practice in case you three _really_ have sex. Make up your damn mind! If this is something you want, _you_ have to ask _them_ this time, and you better ask them soon! I’m sick of this back and forth bullshit!'

"They saw how I panicked. They'll say no."

'Come on! There’s no way you can know that for sure! Look, as your friend, I’m forcing you to make a decision about it. Right now.'

Lurch groaned again, burying his head in his hands. "Why now?"

Thing tugged at Lurch’s coat sleeve until he was looking at him again. 'Now is literally the best time to ask with all this master of the house stuff going on. You're irresistible. You've got more power than ever. You've even got these soft, silky jackets.' Thing scuttled up to Lurch's chest, smoothing the fabric of his new, custom tailored suit with his thumb. 

"But my mama…"

'To hell with your mama!' Thing waved his hand dismissively. 'You're a grown man, Lurch! You can do whatever you please, and your mama has no say in the matter.'

Lurch grimaced. "It's not that simple."

'But it could be! You're only making it harder for yourself. You think you've got two separate problems, but you can kill two birds with one stone here! Impress your mom, seduce Morticia and Gomez. All you have to do is leverage your power a little.'

“I can't. I’ll never really sound powerful.”

‘Jesus. Not with that attitude, you won’t.’

Lurch scowled.

'I'm only agreeing with you! You're so stubborn.’ Thing paused, tapping his fingertips on Lurch’s chest as if deep in thought. He began to sign again with a bit less forcefulness. ‘Besides, it doesn’t really matter if you nail the master charade or not as long as it gets your mom in and out. Morticia and Gomez will like you anyway.’  
  
“How can you be sure?”

‘Let me put it this way: I only give people handjobs if I really, really want to. You’ve got a nice dick, and you’re trustworthy. Gomez and Morticia know that, and none of that has changed since they last asked you for a threesome. Those two could literally be happy with each other until they die, but they chose _you_.'

Lurch sighed, looking at the floor. Thing scurried down Lurch’s pant leg and into his field of vision, continuing.

'And you've been wanting them. You've been _practicing_ for them. And I'll say it, Lurch, you've gotten good.'

"Really?"

'Oh, yeah. And there's no point in improving like that without showing it off.’

There was a long pause. Lurch said nothing. Thing, impatient as ever, hopped onto his shoulder and began tapping in harsh Morse code onto his cheekbone.

'ASK THEM. ASK THEM. ASK THEM. ASK THEM.'

Lurch let out an exasperated groan, rolling his eyes. "Ughhhhh! Fine!"

Thing sprang off Lurch's shoulder and onto his leg again. 'So you'll do it?'

"Maybe." Lurch paused. "If they seem interested."

'They are, dumbass.'

"I'll wait. Once mama is gone. When we're all back to normal. Then I'll ask."

'You better ask soon, before you chicken out. Or else.' Thing sprang up to Lurch's shoulder again to mime slitting his throat before scuttling off into some hole in the wall.

Slowly, Lurch rose from his bed, the creaking of the springs drowning out Morticia and Gomez's footsteps as they ducked away from the door and hurried out of sight.

"Tish! Did you hear all of that?!"

"Oui." Morticia smirked, her voice low so Lurch wouldn't hear. "What a sweet man. He _is_ still interested in us!"

"And we’re interested in him, we just have to tell him!" Gomez cried excitedly. "Cara, please, let's tell him now!"

"No." Morticia raised a gentle hand to stop him. "We couldn't. How do you think he would feel if he knew we had been eavesdropping?” She suddenly heard Lurch’s slow footsteps advancing down the hall, and pulled Gomez into their room so they could continue to speak. “We can’t risk making him anxious, especially with his mother coming tomorrow.”

Gomez frowned, nodding slowly. “I see your point. He’s still got that guilty conscience.”

“It’s not just guilt. No matter how much he wants something, the poor soul isn’t used to asserting himself. No wonder he has trouble with this role, he has nothing inside himself to base it off of.” Morticia sighed, tapping a finger against her lower lip. “Perhaps he needs more positive reinforcement when he takes what he wants… and a couple of hints about our mutual interest in him.”  
  
“Hints, hmm?” Gomez grinned. “How heavy-handed are we talking?”

“We’ll have to feel that out as we go,” Morticia replied thoughtfully. “Too subtle, and he might miss it. Too forward, and we may scare him. I want the perfect balance- something that will make him feel in control of the situation. If he feels genuinely wanted and powerful, maybe he’ll take to his role more quickly. Two birds with one stone, like Thing said.”

"Bit of a complex balancing act, if you ask me," Gomez observed.

"It will take some time to perfect… do you have any better ideas?" Morticia asked her husband, perching on the edge of their bed.

“Ah, I was thinking we could use the coward's way out," Gomez said with a shrug. "Brainwashing, a bit of acrimonium in his drink, that sort of thing."

Morticia raised an eyebrow. "Acrimonium? You mean that little potion in Grandmama's cabinets?"

Gomez grinned. "Exactly that! 'Takes the lid off the id,' that's what she used to say. The man's got a conscience of steel- we both know that- and it's blocking him from just taking what he wants. We could try to calm it with just the right amount of encouragement, or… we could shut it off completely."

Morticia nodded slowly. "Yes, I suppose that does make sense… but we'll have to be careful. We wouldn't want to just drug him, so I can only hope that he'll agree to trying it." She stood from the bed. "Why don't we try my method for the remainder of the day? If we don't make much progress by the evening, we'll try yours. One of them has to work."

"Capital idea, Tish!" Gomez pressed a kiss to the back of his wife's hand. He then paused, glancing up at her with eager eyes. "So. Who gets to flirt with him first?"

Morticia's eyes sparkled. "Whoever's tongue is quickest, mon cher." She laughed as her husband pressed a series of heated kisses up her arm, mumbling something about exactly how he could demonstrate the quickness of his tongue.

* * *

For the rest of the day, Gomez and Morticia truly immersed themselves in their positions, only breaking character for the occasional flirtatious remark, or to coax Lurch towards behaviors befitting a wealthy man. The gentle giant did his best to replicate Gomez's measured tone in all his orders, though he had a bit more difficulty referring to the pair on a first-name basis. Any attempt to do so reminded him of his time in their bedroom, and he was filled with shame again. It hardly helped that they both called him 'sir'- a title that made his heart beat a little faster each time it was uttered. He averted his gaze each time, feeling like he deserved none of what they offered- Morticia in her delicate maid outfit, and Gomez in his crisp butler's tuxedo, the new tailored suits, all of it. But his mother expected him to be a man in power, and so he must own it all.

Lurch was not used to any semblance of power. It felt dangerous, and heavy in a way he could not yet describe. In the role he was building for himself, he had complete control over the actions of two perfect human beings, and unlike himself, they were not working for pay. Though they had been the ones to suggest it, he felt depraved to indulge in their kindness this way. He was not sure how long his mother planned on staying. Knowing her, it could range from a day to several weeks, but they would be forced to keep up the charade regardless, waiting on his orders, responding to his every request. They knew this, and they were dedicated to it. Dedicated to him. He could not understand why.

"Your evening paper, sir."

Lurch glanced up at Morticia as she entered the room, trying not to let any turbulent emotion show on his face. He opened the paper without a word, turning straight to the funny pages on the back. After a day of stressful practice and conflicted feelings, he figured the least he deserved was a laugh.

"No, no, Lurch, not the funnies- the financial page," Morticia corrected. "Wealthy men always turn to the financial page first,"

Lurch's brow furrowed, and he responded with a firmness that surprised even him. "I like the funnies."

Morticia's eyes widened, pride swelling in her chest. "Very _good,_ Lurch! You actually sounded masterful then." Each decisive statement he made was a cause for celebration. Just earlier, he had firmly stated that he wanted the last serving of tadpole’s eyes at dinner, and she was ecstatic. Soon he would be ordering her around without a second thought. She would be lying if she said the prospect didn't thrill her. Any marked increase in Lurch's confidence was incredibly attractive. "Now, as far as pinching the maid…" A joke, mostly, but one she was eager to gage his reaction to. She and Gomez had been building him up all day, and if all had gone according to plan, he might have enough confidence to actually act on her suggestion.

Lurch was, unfortunately, mortified. Pinching the maid wasn't standard practice... was it? He groaned, looking anywhere but at her. He couldn't. She was untouchable. He hoped she didn't notice the color in his cheeks.

"Perhaps that would be carrying it a bit too far," Morticia murmured in disappointment. Too forward. She’d have to try again. "But I don't want your mother to become suspicious. Perhaps you'd better just make eyes at me instead."

Lurch groaned again, shaking his head slightly. She was consenting to it, genuinely asking for it, and yet he wouldn't allow himself to look at her that way. He had seen her in nothing but a black silk robe. This was surely a step down from that- why couldn't he bring himself to do it? His hand closed into a fist, then opened again.

"Try it, Lurch." Encouraging. Firm. The only form of begging she would allow herself.

Again, he shook his head. Fear had taken over him, cold and paralyzing. To objectify Morticia, even for a moment upon her request, seemed like a crime punishable by death. _But she's beautiful,_ said the devil on his shoulder. _You know it, and so does she. And you want her. You want her, and her husband. Go on, master of the house. Take what is yours._

Morticia finally broke character, looking down at him sternly. "Lurch. As mistress of this house, I'm ordering you to make eyes at me." She had not expected herself to be so impatient, but his conversation with Thing several hours ago had revealed all she needed to know. He wanted her. What would it take for him to act on it? She looked down at him with hard set eyes, and he struggled to meet hers. The power dynamics were not where they should be just yet, but Gomez would forgive her selfishness later.

Slowly, nervously, Lurch began to comply. He put on a false mask of confidence, his eyes travelling up Morticia’s body. She was unbelievably beautiful. The way the dress clung to the sharp curves of her body, the way the delicate maid’s skirt hugged her waist... he had been thinking about it all day, but had been far too timid to look at her for longer than he needed to. _You could take her right here,_ said that little devil on his shoulder. _You could tear that dress right off of her. You could ravish her. You could make her husband watch._ He glanced up through half-lidded eyes, and Morticia met his gaze with muted curiosity. Her head tilted ever so slightly to the side, her black eyes glittering with something he couldn’t quite place. 

Pride? 

Irritation? 

Lust? 

Hatred? 

He could not read her expression, and that frightened him to his very core. Quickly, he covered his terror with several exaggerated eye motions- exactly the sort one would see in the funnies he held in his hand.

Morticia was not amused. He had been so close. For a moment she had felt him undressing her with his eyes. Why had he stopped? “Perhaps you’d better just try a devilish smile.” One last attempt.

Lurch, now too nervous to do anything but joke, flashed Morticia a crooked fake smile. Once again, she did not laugh.

“Forget it, Lurch. I’m just not your type.”

Gomez had only just approached the doorway on the other side of the room when he met his wife's gaze. He had not heard any of the previous conversation, but her eyes told him it had not gone well. It was time for his half of the plan. He set a large glass of brandy on a side table, reaching into his coat pocket to produce a tiny blue bottle. Pure acrimonium. The potion was deceptively clear, and fizzed when it was shaken. Hopefully Grandmama would forgive him for borrowing some of her stash- this bottle was nearly empty anyway. After staring at the bottle for a moment, he placed it on the tray by the glass. He'd propose the idea over some brandy, and god willing, Lurch would give it a try.

"Your Cognac, sir."

"I never drink."

Morticia shook her head. "Nonsense. Gentlemen of quality always have a brandy after dinner. It's a sign of sophistication, and culture."

Slowly, reluctantly, Lurch took the glass. Though it was comically large, it fit perfectly in his massive hand. He decided to take this opportunity to truly get into character, and propped his feet up, swirling the contents of the glass beneath his nose. To his surprise, it smelled much like spiced toffee, with an undertone he didn't quite recognize. Perhaps it wouldn't taste so bad. He glanced up at Morticia for her approval, and when she nodded, he downed the entire glass in one gulp.

_Oh God. It burns._

Lurch began to cough, choking slightly on the liquor that set fire to his throat. Was brandy always so strong? Why was it making his eyes water? He wished he had just taken a sip first.

"Well, he just flunked sophistication," Gomez remarked, taking back the glass almost apologetically. He wished he had warned the poor fellow.

Morticia gave the poor man a gentle pat on the back, coaxing his lungs to cooperate. Lurch looked for something, anything to drink that would ease the burn. He suddenly spotted the half-empty blue bottle on the tray.

_Water?_

Before anyone could object, he had snatched it up, uncorked it, and swallowed it all down.

"No, no, no, Lurch, _wait!_ " Gomez's eyes were wide, his face pale as he watched every last drop of the acrimonium slip past Lurch's lips. Morticia covered her mouth in horror. For a moment there was a deafening silence.

"I'm sick of waiting."

Lurch stood abruptly from his chair. His pupils seemed to be dilating far beyond what they would normally be capable of. Without warning, the taller man's hands gingerly cupped Gomez's face, and he kissed him- hard. His lips still tasted of Cognac, warm and spiced, and Gomez all but melted. He kissed back eagerly, wrapping his arms around Lurch and letting out a soft hum of pleasure. A large, steady hand traveled down from his face, over his hip, and planted itself squarely on his ass. A powerful tongue slipped between his lips. Gomez's knees went weak. It was too good to be true... but it was all wrong. He hadn't warned him. Reluctantly, he pulled away.

"Lurch, listen, that thing you drank-"

"Don't speak."

Gomez froze, embarrassed by how quickly his cock reacted to the command. He glanced at his wife, his eyes wild and desperate.

Lurch followed Gomez's steady gaze, locking eyes with Morticia. He flashed her a devilish smile- a real one this time- and it gave her chills. Slowly, he approached her and took her by the hips. It was much reminiscent of the way they had tangoed only a month prior, and as much as Morticia reveled in his touch, she also preferred to exercise some restraint.

"Lurch, please, we meant to warn you before-"

"No talking. Both of you."

Morticia pressed her lips together, trying desperately to hide her arousal. Perhaps it was her dedication to her role, or perhaps it was her desire for him to go further, but against her better judgment, she did not speak. Instead, she leaned into his touch, locking eyes with him. _Take the next step,_ her gaze said. _I dare you._ As if he could hear her request, Lurch began to press slow, heavy kisses up Morticia's shoulder and neck. These were nothing like her husband's kisses with the playful tickle of his mustache- there was far more purpose in these. She felt as if she was being claimed. He nipped at the sensitive skin of her neck, and she gasped softly, tilting her head back to allow him more access.

The devil on Lurch's shoulder had taken the reins completely. Never in his life had he felt such ease in doing everything he wanted.

_Kiss her_. 

He did. 

_Touch her._

He did.

_Throw her into that chair- your chair. Take her. Make her husband watch._

As Lurch pushed Morticia down into the chair he had been sitting in, he could see her coming undone in a way he had never witnessed. She looked so small, almost delicate… and though her body clearly wanted this, something in her eyes said otherwise. Lurch hung over her, his breathing heavy. He seemed to be slowing down. Something in him hesitated as well.

"Arsenic."

The safeword rang out in the room like a command, her tone sure and precise. She had to stop, not just for her sake, but for Lurch's. He had no idea what he was doing just yet. As if the word alone had ripped him from a trance, Lurch staggered backwards, his pupils returning to normal. He stabilized himself on a nearby table, mouth hanging open in shock. He couldn't even find it in himself to groan, and he raised a shaky hand, signing at the pair of them.

'What happened? What was that?’

"Acrimonium," Gomez answered apologetically. "I’m so sorry, I tried to tell you...”

“It’s one of Grandmama’s potions- as far as I can tell, it’s a supplement for the suppressed desires of the human soul. Gomez and I hoped it would help you be more decisive for your mother tomorrow,” Morticia explained. “We meant to discuss it with you first, but everything happened so quickly.”  
  
Lurch looked at his hands, his face flushed with embarrassment. He wasn’t ready to deal with the implications of what he had done under the potion’s influence. They were all things he had desperately wanted anyway, but he had been so good about suppressing them, even when Thing egged him on. Was that the sort of man he was, deep down? He shook his head slowly. It would be foolish of him to ignore how confident the brew had made him. That was exactly the sort of man his mother was expecting when she came to visit tomorrow. He just wished it didn’t make him feel so reprehensively horny.

“If it makes you feel any better, neither of us are cross with you,” Gomez assured him.

“On the contrary- you asserted yourself wonderfully just then. Your mother would be proud.”

Lurch almost laughed. His mother was a prude who would be horrified that he would be so openly affectionate with anyone, let alone two people at once. But on the other hand, if he could just figure out how to isolate the desire to lie and please his mother, maybe this strange little potion could help.

“Thank you.” Lurch stood up straight, finally meeting their gaze. “I will… think about this, uh... acrimonium thing.”

Morticia smiled. “We’ll find a way to make it work, Lurch, don’t you worry.”

Lurch opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the chiming of the clock. The perfect chance to leave this awkward situation entirely. “It’s late. We can discuss this tomorrow.”

“Yes, of course. Sleep on it,” Gomez agreed. “We’ll be awake by seven- let us know how you feel in the morning.”

* * *

"Gomez, darling… we do have more acrimonium, don’t we?"

"There are a few more full bottles- I checked. Didn’t realize he had such a high tolerance, though. He drank half a bottle, and it wore off right away."

“I’m almost upset that it did.”

  
  
Gomez laughed. “Of course you are. But you would have used the safeword either way, wouldn’t you?”

  
  
Morticia nodded, letting out a soft sigh. "It just didn’t seem right. I do wish he had done all of that before when he wasn’t under the influence of some potion. He just kept cracking jokes until I changed the subject.” She glanced up at her husband, a hint of worry in her eyes. “Is it me, Gomez? Do you think he dislikes it when I’m dominant?"

"Only a fool would dislike your dominance, and Lurch is no fool." Gomez placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure you just intimidated him, and he panicked a little. What exactly was it that you said?"

"As mistress of this house, I'm ordering you to make eyes at me."

Gomez let out a breath of hot air, eyes half-lidded. "Oh, Tish, you don't have to ask me twice," he murmured, his eyes raking over her body. "You ravishing creature… goddess of death… striking fear into the hearts of all men who gaze upon you!" Unable to restrain himself, he flung himself at her and pressed crazed kisses to her arm.

"Mmm… perhaps that's the trouble- you've spoiled me," she said with a soft chuckle.

"Nonsense," Gomez mumbled through kisses. "This is the bare minimum!"

"Even so, I can't expect all men to react the same way you do." She sighed. "And I am being rather selfish. Lurch's mother will be here by ten tomorrow, and he's been working hard to really live his role. If he does come around to the acrimonium, we need to enforce that it is strictly for impressing her. No ulterior motives- this time I really mean it."

"Oh really?" Gomez raised an eyebrow. "Will you follow your own advice this time?"

Morticia folded her arms. "Gomez Addams, are you implying I set rules only to break them?"

"Precisely so," Gomez murmured with a wicked grin. He sauntered around her, looking her up and down again. "You're hardly what I'd call well behaved."

Morticia's eyes sparkled in recognition at his low, measured tone. With Lurch's mother over, the pair of them would miss their usual seven o-clock sex tomorrow night. They both realized this, and they both intended to make up for any time they would lose. After serving dinner, answering phone calls, and being as obedient as he could be, Gomez was pushing for a bit of a role reversal. Morticia took the bait gladly, and to her husband's glee, she went a step further. "What makes you say that, sir? We've only just started working here. You hardly know me at all." She looked up at him demurely through her lashes.

Gomez's grin widened. God, he loved roleplay. "You just strike me as the disobedient type, that's all." He placed a hand on her hip, delicate yet firm. She leaned into his touch. "No woman who looks the way you do could ever resist breaking the rules."

"Is that so?"

Gomez nodded, leaning in to whisper in her ear. "I saw you vying for the master's attention after dinner, but he can’t give you what you need. Not like I can." His hot breath made Morticia shudder. "I came to propose something to you tonight- something that could get us both fired." He nipped at her ear, eliciting a soft noise of pleasure from his wife. "And I know you'll be interested. Won't you?"

"Yes, sir. I will."

The words went straight to Gomez's cock, and he let out a slow, shuddering breath. Though their usual dynamic was reversed, she knew exactly what she could do to him. "Come." He took her by the arm, leading her out of their room and down the hallway.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Shh. Patience."

Morticia's hand slid down to Gomez's ass, stopping him in his tracks. "I am not normally a patient woman."

Gomez growled deep in his throat. "Careful." He scooped her up into his arms bridal style, carrying her the rest of the way down the hall. "You'll be patient and obedient when I'm through with you."

"Prove it to me."

Gomez kicked open the door to his office, and Morticia looked at him with wide eyes. Beneath her false surprise, he could see eagerness beyond comprehension.

"Here? In the master's office? We can't."

Gomez placed her down. "We can. And we will. I know you can't resist this sort of temptation." He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Look at me. You can't honestly say you wouldn't let me take you on top of his desk. You need this."

Morticia let out a soft hum of arousal, pupils dilated. "I do."

Gomez grinned, his eyes wild. He used both his arms to dramatically swipe everything off of the desk, brushing his hands off as papers fluttered to the floor. Morticia couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at his enthusiasm.

"You'll be cleaning that up tomorrow, my love."

"Shh, shh! I know, cara mia, I will, but don't break character- this is starting to get interesting!"

With one last amused smirk, Morticia fell back into character, demure and gentle as ever. “Yes, sir.”

Gomez smiled. "If you want me, you'll need to strip. Wouldn't want to ruin that sweet uniform of yours."

"Of course- but I'll need an extra pair of hands," Morticia replied, turning her back towards him for assistance with the zipper.

Gomez was on her in a heartbeat, pressed close to her as he tried to keep his hands steady. The zipper slowly slid down her back, and the dress fell away to reveal pale white skin. He kissed each inch eagerly, and she arched her back against his lips. Just as he had hoped, she wore nothing underneath.

"You were waiting to be touched." Gomez cupped her breasts in his warm, gentle hands. "Dressed for easy access. How convenient for me."

"Who said this was for you?" Morticia quipped, a smirk on her face.

Gomez gave her nipples a harsh twist, and she hissed through her teeth. "I did." He massaged the sensitive skin with his thumb, eliciting a soft gasp. "Tonight, every inch of you is mine. I won't have to take it by force. You'll give it to me."

"I will." Morticia's voice shook slightly, revealing just how desperate she was for him. "Please. Please take me, sir."

Gomez quickly obliged, carrying her to the desk and laying her on her back. The cool touch of the polished mahogany against her bare skin made her shudder with delight. She let her legs fall open, savoring the sound of Gomez's desperate groan when he saw how wet she was for him.

"Better off if I strip too," he murmured, untying his neat black bowtie. "I'm _definitely_ planning on making a mess."

"All over this desk? _His_ desk?"

"His desk, and myself," Gomez replied, a twinkle in his eye. He tossed aside his jacket.

"What if he catches us?" Morticia couldn't resist adding potential danger to any sexual encounter- whether it was real or not didn't matter as long as it made their heartbeats quicken.

"He won't if you're quiet." Gomez began to unbutton his shirt, and soon slid out of it with ease. "Besides, any maid worth their salt knows how to clean a desk. If you can do your job, he'll be working here tomorrow afternoon without a clue that you came all over it."

Morticia's cheeks were tinged with a soft red blush- a victory Gomez rarely got to celebrate before touching her. "Yes, sir. Of course."

Gomez, now fully nude, slowly made his way over to his wife. Even without the costumes, their roles were now quite easy to maintain. Morticia played the part of the shy maid very convincingly, and Gomez was proud to be the swift, efficient butler ready to give her the night of her life. He was sure that by tomorrow, Lurch's mother would find them to be quite dedicated servants. Morticia spread her legs further- a gentle invitation- and instead of climbing on top of her, Gomez sank to his knees in front of the desk.

"Oh?"

"Why so surprised?" He smirked. "Did you think I was just going to thrust my cock into you without getting a taste first?"

"Well, yes, sir. You see… it's what I would have done," Morticia murmured darkly. 

Gomez shuddered at the thought of her thick red strap-on, but pushed the image aside. She wouldn't fluster him so easily. Tonight she was only a maid. "You'll find, my darling, that I have more restraint than that. Why rush into things when they can be savored?" His head found its way between her thighs and he inhaled the scent of her, a poison sweet and heavy enough to drive him to madness.

"Then savor me." Morticia placed a soft hand on the back of his head, only barely resisting her instinct to push him down. "Please."

Gomez didn’t need to be asked twice. He buried his head between her legs, the taste of her instantly making him dizzy as if he were wine drunk at a funeral. Though he held some small semblance of power over her tonight, they both knew he would do anything Morticia commanded just to be in this spot. Of course, there was no real submission in his service to her now. This was par for the course for the pair of them- as natural as missionary was to many other married couples- and better yet, it could be twisted into anything they pleased. Some nights, Gomez suffocated here, his skull threatening to split open between Morticia’s deceptively strong thighs. Other nights, he strapped her to the rack and teased her until she was near tears. Tonight his pace was slow, but there was an urgency to every movement. The risk of being discovered made everything twice as thrilling. He lapped at the slick lips of her labia as if they were the only thing tethering him to this earth. The tip of his tongue flicked over her clit, and Morticia inhaled sharply. His eyes met hers. She was frozen in time, waiting for his skilled mouth to make the next move. Wordlessly, she pleaded for him to do something, anything, and for once his fiery brown eyes promised nothing. He would give to her selflessly for as long as she needed him to, but he would choose when, and how. No amount of begging, wordless or otherwise, could change that.

“Please, sir. Please. Tuez-moi avec votre langue.”

Well, perhaps he could make an exception for French. He let his eyes fall shut again, tongue swirling around her clit. Morticia shuddered, trapping his head between her thighs. Gomez could hear nothing but his own heart pounding in his ears, and he pressed on, the small amount of sensory deprivation enough to make his cock twitch. As he sought out the perfect spot to make Morticia gasp, he took himself in his fist, pumping in perfect rhythm with each stroke of his tongue. The pair of them made a weak effort to stifle their noises of pleasure, but soon all resolve was broken. Morticia’s desperate cries, while short, echoed in the wide office space, and Gomez growled into her, low and loud, sucking her clit as he rocked his hips into his hand. He was close already, and for a moment he fantasized about coming on his knees this way, staining the carpet and coating the leg of the sleek mahogany desk. Instead, he stopped, and lifted his head. He had other business to attend to.

“The master of the house will surely hear if you keep moaning that way,” he warned, grinning as he stood on shaky legs.  
  
“Let him. I don’t care.” Morticia’s eyes followed him as he approached her, climbing up on top of the desk. His chin was slick, absolutely dripping with her, and she let out a soft, pleased hum. He was perfect this way. She would frame that image if she could. His lips met hers so she could taste just how sweet of a poison she could be, and her fingers slipped into his short black hair again. After he secured his position on the desk, the head of his cock found her entrance. Slowly, achingly slowly, he sank into her, moaning into her mouth as she clenched around him. She raised her hips as encouragement, and he began his rhythm, steady and firm, carving her into a shape he could hold. He shifted his hips, angling his cock ever so slightly, and she allowed herself one desperate moan.

"You won't care at all when he finds you like this?" Gomez murmured, his breath catching in his throat when her walls squeezed him tightly. "We'll both be reprimanded. We'll certainly be fired." A needy whine escaped his lips, and he shuddered into her.

"I'm willing to take that risk," Morticia gasped, red fingernails digging into his back. "Make this worth it. Ruin me."

And ruin her he did. Gomez's hips took up a much faster tempo, pounding into her with reckless abandon. His teeth met her skin, leaving deep red marks on her chest, on her shoulders. They would be hidden by her dress tomorrow morning, invisible to all but her. She hissed as his teeth found her nipple, wrapping her thighs around him. He made her ache to her very core, a white-hot ache that she was all too familiar with.

"I'm close!"

Gomez arched his back so his cock could hit that perfect spot inside of her, thrusting again and again until she screamed bloody murder, her fingernails digging into his back. He very nearly came inside of her, but at the last second he remembered to pull out, hot strings of cum coating the surface of the wood beneath them.

They paused to catch their breath. Gomez let his head fall onto Morticia's breast, and the rapid pounding of her heart brought him back to earth.

"So. Was that worth it?"

"Oui." Morticia smiled. "Though a part of me wishes you'd finish inside of me."

"Tish!" Gomez blushed, breaking character entirely. "And risk a third child? Under these circumstances?"

Morticia laughed. "Just a thought, mon cher. Maybe not now. But someday. I just miss the feeling of you filling me, that's all."

Gomez groaned in sweet agony, burying his face in her bosom. "Oh, Tish, please… don't sweet-talk me like that when I'm already spent."

A wicked grin spread across Morticia's face, and though her legs were shaky, she slid out from under him and stood by the desk. "I can certainly fix that."

Gomez's eyes went wide as she fell to her knees in front of him. Her tongue began to trace the still warm, white fluid coating the wood. The taste of him was bitter, and salty as the sea. She would gladly drown in it.

"Querida…"

Morticia's tongue found Gomez's limp cock, flicking out over the tip to clean what remained there. "I'm only doing my job," she murmured. "You said it yourself- any maid worth their salt knows how to clean a desk."

Gomez moaned with delight. After she did indeed clean every inch of that desk, her skilled tongue coaxed one more orgasm out of him. Truly spent this time, he shuddered against the cold wood, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead.

"I think…" he mumbled weakly, "...that I may just fall asleep here."

Morticia pulled a handkerchief out of Gomez's desk drawer, wiping her mouth delicately. "While I'm sure that firm desk is tempting, my love, I'd prefer that you come to bed." She rose to her feet, extending her arm to lead him out of the office and down the dark hallway. "We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."


	4. Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lurch's mother arrives, and he's willing to take ungodly amounts of acrimonium to impress her. The only trouble is that the potion makes his desires far more difficult to suppress.  
> CW for potion usage that at times sounds a bit like drug usage, and a manipulative mom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! Hello everyone! It's been a minute!  
> First of all, yes I did change my username, don't be alarmed, it's still me. Second, I'd like to thank everyone who's been leaving such kind comments, I never expected this fic to get any attention at all and you're all very nice to me :')  
> As you can tell, this chapter took longer than expected- so long in fact, that I wrote enough to split it into TWO fucking chapters. I think I got carried away but I don't really care. This first chapter is more plot driven I guess, but I promise you, I swear on my life, these horny bastards fuck at the end of the next chapter.

"Gomez. Gomez, it's quarter 'til seven."

Gomez groaned, the reality of the situation finally setting in for him. He had to spend the entire day playing the part of a dutiful butler for a man who had just kissed him the night before, alongside his beautiful wife who would be wearing the cutest maid outfit on earth, and he wouldn't be allowed to have sex with either of them. Not even once. It was a small price to pay for helping a friend, but he and his wife had made love every night since their first honeymoon. To miss that would be a crime. "Let me die," he muttered, dramatically flinging the covers over his face.

Morticia shook her head. "Oh no, not without me, you won't." She pulled the covers back. "We die together. You promised me."

Gomez sighed, finally opening his eyes. "We die together," he repeated. "And now, I will live through the agony of not being touched for a full day in the most arousing possible situation I could ever imagine."

Morticia chuckled softly. "You've endured far worse torture at my hand. You'll live. Remember what else we promised."

"No ulterior motives," Gomez replied, sitting up straight with a slight grimace. "Querida, do you really think we can pull it off?"

"We have to try," Morticia insisted. "We owe Lurch that much. If it fails, he will at least know we did our best."

"Fair point." Gomez paused. "One kiss before I can't touch you any longer?"

Morticia gladly obliged, pulling her husband into a passionate kiss. It would have turned into far more if they had the time, but the alarm they had set rang incessantly by their bedside, and would not stop until Gomez pulled away, grabbed a sword, and sliced it clean in two.

* * *

Once the pair were dressed, Gomez and Morticia descended the stairs with some awkwardness. It was strange not to constantly link arms wherever they went, but it was necessary. When they arrived in the kitchen, they were shocked to see Lurch already there, surrounded by every bottle of acrimonium he had been able to find. He looked at the pair of them as if he had been caught committing a crime.

"I… I decided I need it," he explained. "The acrimonium, I mean. But..." he hesitated, looking at the floor as his cheeks flushed slightly. His voice left him, and he began to sign. ‘But I’m afraid.’

Morticia understood exactly. “Afraid of what it might make you do?” Though none of them spoke of it directly, the three of them certainly had not forgotten how he had reacted to the first small dose.

Lurch nodded sheepishly. ‘If mama sees me do something like that…’

  
  
“She won’t,” Morticia assured him. “You responded perfectly well to the safeword last night, and you stopped right away. It won’t be difficult to use it again if you feel any overwhelming urges.”

Lurch groaned with embarrassment, hiding his face.

“Oh, don’t feel bad, old man! That sort of thing happens to me all the time, potion or no potion,” Gomez remarked. He glanced at his wife, flashing her a charming grin. “All it takes is some French.”

Morticia shook her head at her husband, smirking slightly. “We’re well aware, darling.” She turned back to Lurch. “As your faithful servants, we shall do our very best to make sure your mother has the perfect image of you. Why don’t we have a little test run? We’ll give you a full bottle this time, and we can all learn to adjust to the effects before your mother arrives.”

Lurch nodded slowly. That just might work. "All right.” He took one of the many bottles covering the kitchen counter, uncorking it with a soft  _ pop.  _ For a moment he hesitated, looking at the pair of them as if to ask permission. Morticia gave him a small nod, and Lurch swallowed every drop of the potion. It was far gentler than the brandy, almost like sparkling water. Normally he couldn't stand carbonation, but he had now learned to be grateful for any drink that didn't burn him.

It only took a moment for it to take effect. His pupils dilated, and his perfect posture became somehow more perfect. Gomez was a bit disappointed when the taller man didn't kiss him again, but anyone who witnessed the three of them would agree that the thick sexual tension could be cut with a knife. Lurch's hands rested firmly at his sides, but his eyes said everything his inner devil begged for him to do.

_ Fuck them on the kitchen counter. Your mother isn't here yet. You have time to ruin them. _

Lurch trembled slightly, fighting to resist temptation. He lifted one massive hand, caressing Morticia’s cheek gently. God, he wanted her. His hand traveled down the smooth column of her neck, down past her collarbone, down to the alabaster skin exposed by the low cut of her dress. Gomez watched, but made no move to stop him, only licking his lips and placing his hands in his pockets. He would have taken that as permission to continue if Morticia didn’t say the safeword moments later.

  
“Arsenic.” There was regret in her voice, but the command was firm.

Lurch let out a shaky sigh, withdrawing his hand. Even his inner devil could understand the rules of consent. Instead of ravaging the pair of him as he so wanted to, he settled for a firm order.

"Breakfast, and the paper.  _ Now _ ."

Gomez and Morticia smiled proudly as he strode out of the room. "Yes, sir," they said in almost perfect unison. "Right away."

* * *

"What is  _ this? _ "

Lurch held up the dark piece of toast between his thumb and forefinger as if it was as disgusting to him as a newborn kitten.

"Your toast, sir. Black, as you requested it," Morticia replied.

Lurch frowned at her, and her heart leapt into her throat. She was not used to being intimidated by the gentle giant, or by anything, really, but the look in his eyes was one of genuine distaste.

"Not black enough."

Morticia nodded, her eyes wide. "My apologies, sir." The acrimonium had really done things for him this time. He sounded so in control that she hardly recognized him.

Lurch rose from his seat at the head of the table, approaching Morticia at a dangerously slow pace. Suddenly she realized he had cornered her, and he stood so close that she could feel his breath.

"Make it again. Darker." His voice was a low rumble in his throat, laced with something far more dangerous than anger. A need he was barely suppressing. He tilted her chin up with his finger so they were eye to eye. "Understood?"

For a moment, Morticia expected him to go further, but his hand stayed firmly in place. She was sure she saw a smirk tug at the edge of his lips. Was he toying with her? She had to admit, it was quite impressive, and much more convenient than devouring her the way he wanted to. Unfortunately for her, this would make holding her own restraint far more challenging. She did not often let people put her in such a position, one where she desired them and they would give her no certainty, but she trusted Lurch, even in this state. She would give herself up to his whims without question, and knowing that made her almost furious. God only knew how her husband would react.

"Yes, sir. I understand."

Lurch turned away, his next words making Morticia absolutely bristle with rage. How embarrassing, she thought, to allow him to be so demeaning, and to suddenly enjoy it. If she didn't trust him so completely, he would be dead by her hand in an instant, but instead she was left with a deep blush on her cheeks, and the intense desire to be touched.

"Good girl."

* * *

"Gomez."

The short Castilian stopped in his tracks when his first name left Lurch's lips. Finally, he had stopped calling him Mr. Addams! That acrimonium had truly helped him along. "Yes, sir?"

Lurch propped his feet up in front of him as he lounged in his chair. "Shine my shoes."

Gomez blinked. Though he had rarely asked that of Lurch when the roles were reversed, that was technically his job. He wasn't sure why he was so surprised. "Your shoes, sir?"

"My shoes," Lurch repeated, his brow furrowed in slight frustration. "I can't have them looking scuffed when mama arrives."

"Yes, sir, of course." Gomez rummaged around in a nearby drawer- he had stowed some shoe polish here years ago, but he didn't often use it unless his shoes were in dire need of maintenance. Finally, he found the small container and horsehair brush and knelt beside Lurch's feet. Had the circumstances been different, he would have found the submission highly erotic, but he was currently focused on doing a good job. He brushed both shoes until he was sure they were clean of any dirt or debris, then produced a handkerchief from his pocket. In what he was sure was a poor imitation of every seasoned bootblack he had ever observed, he wrapped the small piece of cloth tightly around two of his fingers before liberally coating it with polish. It would be stained once he was finished, but it didn’t matter. He had plenty more. He began to move the cloth in small circles across the leather of Lurch's left shoe, diligently reaching each small crevice. Once a full coat was applied to each shoe, he smiled proudly, letting the handkerchief hang loose in his hand. Not bad. "There you are, sir."

Lurch glanced at his feet, then shook his head. "Spit shine."

"Excuse me?"

"I want them spit shined, Gomez." He raised an eyebrow at the shorter man. "Are you familiar with the process?"

"Oh- yes, of course. But if you want my advice, Lurch, a spit shine isn't all that sustainable in the long run-"

The hard-set gaze of the taller man immediately stunned Gomez into silence.

"I know what I asked for. These shoes need to be spotless. Like a mirror. Do you understand?"

Gomez nodded, his heartbeat quickening. "Yes, sir." He wound the stained handkerchief around his fingers again, and after a moment's hesitation, he leaned down and spat on the dress shoes before him. Lurch's subsequent noise of approval made his cheeks go pink. There was something profoundly embarrassing about his saliva on the other man's shoes, about the way he sat obediently on his knees and buffed the leather til it reflected his blushing face. He struggled desperately with his mind, which seemed determined to remind him how easily Lurch could press the shoe to his face, into his cheek, and push him all the way to the ground, how simple it would be for him to kick his legs apart and step hard on his-

His head snapped up when he thought he heard the other man chuckle, but he couldn't meet his powerful gaze, and he lowered it once more. It was as if Lurch's eyes bore holes into his skull, like he could see inside his mind and was amused by the contents. It probably wasn't hard to guess what he was thinking from his expression alone- when he caught his reflection in the leather of the dress shoes, he looked desperate as ever. God, how humiliating. Gomez let out a noise of frustration, polishing more quickly as he ignored the desire gnawing at him. Perhaps this was why Lurch groaned all the time.

* * *

As he paced in the hallway post shoe-shine, Lurch could finally feel the potion wearing off. His usual thoughts came flooding back, the devil on his shoulder became almost silent, and he felt suddenly more vulnerable than ever. He rested his head against the wall, trying to gain his bearings. Lucifer’s tail, that stuff was strong. What time was it? He squinted at the clock. Quarter til ten. His mother would be here any minute. 

Everything would be just fine. 

Deep breaths.

To his relief, Gomez passed by him in the hall, stuffing a clean handkerchief into his pocket. Great timing, he had so many questions. He opened his mouth to flag him down as confidently as he had been doing all morning, but all that came out was a nervous grunt.

“Ah, Lurch! Do you need something?” Gomez asked jovially. He, too, was trying to hide his nerves, but he did it far better.

“What time did I take that potion?” Lurch inquired, looking at the clock once more to be sure he hadn’t forgotten the current time.

“I believe it was exactly seven.” He paused. “Why, has it finally worn off?”

Lurch nodded slowly. “Just now.”

“Lurch, that’s great news! That means it lasted three whole hours- last time it wore off in minutes!” Gomez grinned. “Maybe this one was a much stronger dose.”

Lurch shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hope the other bottles are just as strong.”

“I’ll assume they are, and if I’m right, you’ll only need…” Gomez trailed off, doing a bit of quick math in his head. “Four more to last til ten PM, and a daily dose from here on out will be… five. Damn. That’s… actually a bit more than I anticipated.” He glanced up at Lurch. “How long is your mama planning on staying?”

Lurch shrugged again, grimacing. “Up to her.”

“Well… in that case, we’ll have to pace these next few doses out. Just in case. Wait til after she gets here to take the next one, Tish and I will stay out of your way and busy ourselves with some simple household chores. You can do a little bit of catching up, excuse yourself, and come back at, say, ten thirty after taking the next dose. How does that sound?”

Lurch nodded, grateful that Gomez was so willing to help him with this crazy scheme. “Sounds good.” He paused. “Am I… doing well?” He felt silly to seek out praise, but the acrimonium had genuinely left his brain feeling so foggy that he couldn’t tell if he had even reached a state that would be presentable to his mama.

“Absolutely superb,” Gomez assured him, giving him a firm pat on the arm. “In fact, I think some bragging is in order. Morticia has got to know how far you’ve progressed!” With a gleeful grin, he left the hallway, and Lurch could hear him call to his wife as he entered the living room. He looked at the clock again. Ten o’clock sharp.

The doorbell rang.

* * *

The second dose of acrimonium felt stronger than the first. After Lurch made some brief conversation with his mother- which is to say, she talked and he nodded excessively, he had excused himself to the restroom to drink from the bottle in his breast pocket. The first sip hit him like a ton of bricks, and as the rest slipped down his throat, every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire. That was new.

The next six hours were a complete blur. He knew he had been speaking the whole time, smiling even, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember anything he said. Perhaps it was his anxiety seeping through. The potion couldn’t block out everything, after all, and even if his id was in the driver’s seat confidently keeping pace with his mother, he was also fairly sure that he was experiencing one prolonged panic attack. Unfortunately, that was just how life was with mama around. She drove, he kept up. Otherwise he’d lose her. Somewhere along the line there were several orders, several lies, several empty responses to something she was complaining about. Probably a book club. Next thing he knew, they were reading. He could read at the speed of light on this stuff, and he immediately tossed aside any book that didn’t agree with him after the first five pages. At exactly four thirty, time slowed back down to its usual pace and he nearly dropped his copy of  _ Little Women _ . He felt unbelievably weak. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he sat up from the sofa to pull at the noose-shaped rope suspended from the ceiling.

“You rang?” Gomez looked nearly as tired as he felt. The poor man had been running back and forth for his spitfire of a mother all day.

“Wore off again,” Lurch muttered under his breath.   
  
Gomez’s eyes went wide. “Just now? I thought for sure it would wear off ages ago.”

Lurch glanced around the room to be sure his mother was nowhere in sight, then pulled the small bottle out of his breast pocket and handed it to Gomez. “This one was bigger. I think.”

Gomez traded the empty bottle with a full one, which Lurch swallowed down immediately. “Huh. So it is.” As Lurch handed it back and slowly adjusted to the potion, Gomez squinted heavily at the larger of the two bottles, trying his hardest to make out anything on the label aside from the name. “I’m going to have a talk with Grandmama about her handwriting later. It’s atrocious- like some kind of… general practitioner.” He shuddered. Finally, he managed to read something. “Ah- two ounces. Twice the last dose.” He slipped both empty bottles into his own pocket, brow furrowed. “I should really look at the others more thoroughly- I know Grandmama uses whatever she can find to bottle her potions, but we really ought to standardize your dosage. We wouldn’t want it wearing off when you don’t expect it. Maybe I can-”

Before Gomez could finish his thought, Lurch’s mother bustled back into the room, complaining away as always.

“You call  _ that _ a bathroom?! That’s what  _ passes _ for a bathroom. There were no bowls of rocks, or any decorative soaps! You don’t even have a bath mat- who doesn’t have a bath mat?!”

Gomez grimaced. Decorative soaps?  _ Bath mat? _ This woman was insufferable, nothing like Lurch at all. Anybody with sense knows that a cold floor after a hot bath is far more pleasant than some repulsively soft mat. Despite his irritation, he gave her a polite nod “My apologies, madam.”

Mrs. Lurch scoffed at him. “I don’t want your apologies, just get over to that bathroom and put down a bath mat! Now!”

Gomez grimaced, shuffling off to the bathroom. He truly had trouble believing the gentle giant was related to this woman. “Yes, madam.”   
  
Lurch, now finally adjusted to the potion, watched Gomez slowly take his leave. Even with his mother in the room, his unapologetic id was loud and clear.

_ Look at him. His ass is so perfect in those slacks. Go after him. There’s no reason why the master of the house should be deprived of his property. _

Lurch stood abruptly, walking straight past his mother as if she no longer existed. “Excuse me.” He followed Gomez down the hall, his steps surprisingly silent for a man his size. 

“Morticia!” Gomez called down the long, dark hall. “Do we have a bath mat?”

“Bath mat?” His wife’s voice echoed from the inside of his office where she was dusting. “Whatever for?”

“Mrs. Lurch has requested one,” Gomez replied, shaking his head.

  
  
“Has she? How strange. Well… I’ll see what I can do.”

Gomez sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose at the absurdity of the request. When the shorter man finally turned towards the bathroom, he caught Lurch out of the corner of his eye and jumped slightly.

“Oh! Sorry old man, you startled me.” He cleared his throat, falling back into his role. “Did you need something, sir?”

Lurch nodded, gently guiding Gomez into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. “You could say that.”

Gomez swallowed nervously, looking up at the taller man with shining brown eyes. The implication in his tone was clear. He was in serious danger of giving in to whatever Lurch’s acrimonium-addled brain suggested, but he knew how risky that was with his mother around. “Unless it’s bath mat related, I think you ought to wait until I’m...” Gomez trailed off, the words catching in his throat as Lurch’s firm hand rested on his ass. His pulse quickened, and he licked his lips nervously. God, if only his wife was here. She had the restraint he so desperately needed. He was making a weak effort to speak again when Lurch’s free hand caressed the side of his face, silencing him once more.

“Mine,” Lurch murmured, a small smile on his lips. The hand on his ass slipped slightly lower, and one small squeeze sealed the nail in Gomez’s coffin. All restraint was out the window now.

  
  
“Yours,” he said breathlessly, nodding. “Yours.”

Lurch’s smile became an enormous grin. He pressed Gomez up against the tiled bathroom wall, fingertips digging deeper into the soft flesh beneath his slacks. His free hand ran over his chest, underneath his coat, teasing gently at the nipple under his shirt. 

Gomez groaned. “Sir, we need to be careful. Your mother-”

The door to the bathroom flew open, and both men jumped away from each other, horrified that speaking of the devil may have summoned her. Instead, Morticia stood in the doorway, a small bamboo bath mat rolled up in her arms. She squinted suspiciously at the pair of them.

“I came to tell you that we do, in fact, have a bath mat, and thankfully it isn’t soft. What exactly are you both doing in here?”

Lurch did not answer. Instead, he pulled Morticia into the bathroom as well, and shut the door again.

  
“Querida, I can explain.”

“Don’t.” Lurch silenced Gomez with a finger to his lips. “She understands. Don’t you?” He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, smirking slightly.

Morticia huffed softly, her cheeks growing pink. “You’re making it very difficult to behave for your mother, do you realize that?”

“She can’t see us here.” Lurch leaned in to nip at her earlobe, eliciting a soft gasp from Morticia’s lips.

“He’s right,” Gomez murmured. “No harm in something small like this… right Tish?”

Morticia let out a low hum in response, tilting her head back as Lurch pressed warm kisses to her neck. Even her restraint was slipping. “She’ll be wondering where you are,” she reminded Lurch, hoping to convince him to stop before she gave in.   
  
“I’m just in the restroom. She can’t barge in.”

Lurch’s teeth grazed over her pulse point, and Morticia covered her mouth to stifle a moan. Damn this beautiful giant, damn this acrimonium, and damn his mother to heaven twice. It was pure torture to have to turn him down. “Arsenic.”

Lurch groaned in disappointment, but stepped away. The three of them stood still for a moment, all wishing that Mrs. Lurch would turn to dust so they could take what they wanted, but instead, Morticia handed Gomez the bath mat and briskly exited the bathroom, her black hair falling to hide her flushed face. After a moment, Lurch followed, leaving Gomez holding the rolled up bamboo mat over his crotch to hide his slight erection.   
  


* * *

Day two of his mother’s visit had Lurch more nervous than before. In theory it should be easy- take the acrimonium, let his id drive, impress his mother, rinse and repeat. Unfortunately, she was incredibly observant. Ever since the incident in the bathroom, she had been squinting suspiciously at Gomez and Morticia no matter where they went.

“I’m telling you, sonny, they’re no good!” She shut her copy of  _ The Hound of the Baskervilles _ and looked pointedly at her son from across the living room. “Too  _ pretty _ . Too comfortable. Have you seen the way that butler  _ stares _ at you? And that maid! No good, the both of them, always distracted… like they’re planning something.”

“They can’t be. I’ve never seen them stare,” he lied, pretending to occupy himself with the paper. In all honesty, Gomez did look at him for a bit longer than he needed to, but there was nothing suspicious in his gaze. It was the same look the chivalrous Castilian had given him in the master bedroom a month ago- unmistakably smitten, but concerned for his comfort. Morticia was harder to read, but she was the same. Her gaze was full of pride, with a dash of attraction. He knew for a fact that his mother had no right to be suspicious of any ill will, but he had no way to explain why without revealing his lie.

“Well, I see it! Every minute of the day, I’m watching those two. You’re too soft with them, sonny- you can’t treat a servant that way, or they’ll walk all over you.”   
  
Lurch bristled slightly. Would she say that if she knew his true profession? Did she really believe he was being too soft with them? With the help of the acrimonium, he had been ordering them expertly, and something deep within him worried he might even be too harsh. But his mother had different ideas about how to run a house. “Ridiculous. I treat them well,” he muttered, resisting the urge to snap at her.

“Ha! That’s exactly the problem- you treat them  _ well _ .” His mother shook her head. “But you can’t treat them well all the time, or they’ll only want more. They’ll run you dry. You see this book?” She shifted in her armchair and waved the Sherlock Holmes novel in her hand at him. “I’m only part of the way through, and I  _ know _ that the butler is up to no good. Even the narrator agrees. If Henry Baskerville treated Barrymore with a cushy lifestyle like you do with your servants, he’d have been murdered long before he could even get to Holmes. You see what I mean?”   
  
“I haven’t read it,” Lurch replied through gritted teeth. He was loath to even consider what his mother was implying. Morticia and Gomez wanted nothing but his happiness. They treated him like family, and would never do anything to hurt him. They wouldn’t even murder him unless he explicitly asked.

“Well, listen sonny, the point is that you can’t let people take advantage of you. I know you’re…  _ softer _ than most men, but if you don’t keep an eye on those two, they’ll do terrible things. They’ll unionize, they’ll steal, they’ll push you out and take your place. I will  _ not _ let them take this house from you.” 

Her gaze was almost threatening now. Even with the acrimonium running through his veins, Lurch suddenly felt very cold, and very small. If the roles were reversed, if he was the butler as usual, would he be accused of running the Addams dry? Of taking their place? Is that what he was doing now? He gripped the newspaper more tightly. If only the potion he had taken earlier could drown out his heart pounding in his ears. It would wear off soon, but even on a full dose, he felt his mother’s words cut right through him. All thoughts of his id were silenced, and replaced with her own. It was all too much. 

“Excuse me.”

Lurch stood from the sofa, dropping the paper and striding out of the room. His throat seemed to tighten- he had to get away from her, even if it was just for a moment. One second longer, and she might catch him in his lie. He ducked into the front hallway to catch his breath. The clock above him ticked, and with each passing second the acrimonium finally drained from his body. He slumped over on a nearby wall. What was even the point of all this? His mother didn’t seem remotely satisfied, and the potion was hardly even helping. In fact, he was sure it was doing something to his head. He kept hearing this… incessant tapping. Was he going mad? He turned around and spotted Thing tapping on the roof of his box. Oh. No, he was fine.

‘Finally. You were really zoned the fuck out there, buddy,’ Thing signed. ‘How’s it going? How’s mama?’

Lurch groaned in response.

‘Yeah, tell me about it. I didn’t need to ask, actually. I can just  _ feel _ her talking no matter what box I’m in.’

“I love her, but… it’s a nightmare.” There was a slight pause. “Can I have some advice?”

‘Sure. What’s up?’

“So. There’s this potion.”

‘Yeah?’

“It gives me the confidence to do anything. No fear of consequence.”

‘Oh, sweet!’

“But…” Lurch lowered his voice, glancing behind him to be sure his mother wasn’t listening in. “It makes me, uh… very… very, um…” he trailed off, incredibly embarrassed.

‘Unable to finish sentences?’

Lurch rolled his eyes. “No.”

‘Stupid?’

“No. Well… sort of.”

‘ _ Horny?’ _

“...yes.”

Thing trembled with amusement, slapping the side of his box gently. ‘Oh my god. That’s hilarious.’

“It isn’t!” Lurch protested. “It’s blowing my cover. I… I can’t resist them.”

‘Who? Morticia and Gomez?’

“Yes.”

‘Oh, this just keeps getting funnier. Wait, let me get this straight- you took a potion to impress your mom because you’re shy, but you want a threesome so bad that it’s literally your first instinct to pursue these two as soon as you take it?’ Thing trembled with amusement once more, then composed himself. ‘What exactly is the issue here? This isn’t just hilarious, it’s convenient. If you want my advice, just kick your mom out, ditch the potion, and ask for that threesome already. Now they at least know you’re interested.’

Lurch shook his head immediately. “No.”

‘Come on! Why not?’

“It’s not that simple,” Lurch mumbled. “Mama thinks they’re out to get me. She’ll be more suspicious if I kick her out. Even if I did, I… I think I’d need the potion for later.”

‘Seriously? For the threesome? Come on.’

“I’ll panic again without it.”

‘Look, either way, you can’t just make all your decisions on this stuff because you think it’s easy.’

Lurch let out an indignant huff. “I could.”

‘No way. You’d have to take it forever- that would be crazy. You’ll run out eventually.’

Lurch shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t really want to be on acrimonium forever. With all the good it brought out in him, it also brought out the worst. He knew he was meant to be building himself up, but that sort of self love would take time- time that he definitely did not have. This was liquid confidence, quick and easy. Despite Thing's advice, he was convinced it would be the only way for him to have the balls to ask for another threesome later and actually go through with it. On the other hand, that would require saving some for later. There were only so many bottles, and Gomez had already expressed concern about how much he seemed to need. Even with a full dose, his anxiety made his mother incredibly difficult to deal with. Saving a bottle for later might mean forgoing a dose now, and the thought of facing her under the full weight of his blatant lie was too much for him to bear. He turned away, thoughts now occupied with how to prioritize the use of the few bottles he had left.

Thing slapped his box in irritation, tapping in Morse code. 'GET BACK HERE. NOT DONE TALKING.'

Lurch ignored him, heading straight for the kitchen. Sure enough, Morticia was already there preparing for lunch.

"The table has been set, sir, I'm just gathering the serving utensils," Morticia informed him. She paused, lowering her voice. "Do you need your acrimonium?"

Lurch grunted softly, nodding. "Yes, thank you." He paused. "Which bottle is biggest?"

"Biggest?" Morticia echoed, raising an eyebrow. “I thought Gomez mentioned standardizing your dose. 

"I need more this time.” Perhaps if he could find a big bottle that lasted him as long as possible, he would have enough to save for later. Just enough for the threesome of his dreams. Not much was clear after each dose of the potion wore off, but he could tell that Morticia and Gomez enjoyed the authoritative tone he used while on it. For them, he'd keep it forever if he could. How ironic that his desire to maintain control was secretly just a desire to please them. To please everyone.

Morticia seemed skeptical, but Lurch’s pleading eyes were not something she could say no to. "Well, all right. If you say so." She rifled through the kitchen cabinets, running her manicured fingernails over each bottle until she found the largest one. “Here. Three and a half ounces.” The bell rang twice, and she grimaced. "That's me.” She quickly handed Lurch the bottle. “I'll be right back."

As Morticia left, Lurch uncorked the bottle. If one ounce lasted three hours, and two lasted for six, three and a half would be… his mental math stopped short as the potion slipped down his throat. His heart pounded. His nerves were aflame.  _ There _ it was. Stronger than ever. He briefly hoped such a strong dose wouldn't kill him, but in that moment he felt far too invincible to ever truly die. He stood tall, quite pleased with himself. Fuck Thing, he didn’t know what he was talking about. He  _ could _ be on this stuff forever. Lurch placed the empty bottle by the sink, leaning heavily on the edge of the counter. The feeling of the potion within him was absolutely dizzying- he truly felt like he could get away with anything right about now.

The voice of his id- the deeper, more shameful one that he had been suppressing- finally broke through again.

_ Touch yourself. You've been so pent up. You can touch yourself anywhere- the house is yours. _

Lurch let out a shaky breath, and despite the small part of himself that was screaming for him to think this through, his hand found its way to the button of his pinstripe slacks. This was crazy. Truly crazy… but he did want it. He was sick of feeling shame for his desires. His hand wrapped around his half-hard cock, coaxing it gently to a full erection. As he stroked himself he stared out into the middle of the kitchen, out towards the door that lay directly in front of him. His domain. His house. He thought about how easy it would be to take both Gomez and Morticia on the kitchen counter, ripping them out of their perfect little uniforms, pressing hot kisses to every inch of their skin. Morticia would be back eventually- how perfect it would be to lift her into his arms, to let her wrap her legs around him and slowly thrust into her. Her husband could watch with those big, desperate brown eyes, positioned perfectly behind her, guiding his every movement. His cock throbbed against his palm, and he groaned softly. Someone could come in that door at any moment and see what he was doing. It didn't matter. He didn't care.

"Sonny! Where are you? Your lunch is getting cold!"

_ Preserve your honor. _

Oh no. Oh god. He did care. Lurch felt the strength from the potion practically drain from his bloodstream, and he buttoned up his pants so forcefully that he worried he would break them. What the hell was going on? There was no way this large of a dose could wear off this quickly. He let out a grunt of frustration, shaking his head. Did he do something wrong?

At that moment, Morticia entered the kitchen again. "Well. That took a bit more time than expected.” She approached Lurch to dispose of the empty bottle, but there was something odd about the way he stood. She stopped in her tracks as her eyes landed on the straining fabric of his slacks.  _ Oh _ . "Are you… feeling alright?" Her voice was very soft, as if speaking too loudly would scare off any feelings of arousal within him.

God damn it. If only he hadn’t been stunned into shame just moments ago- this would have been so perfect. "Of course I am,” he snapped. “What a ridiculous question.”

Morticia frowned. He was clearly not in a good mood. Perhaps such a large dose of the potion wasn’t such a good idea, but it was too late to do anything now. All she could do was be sure he would eat. "If you say so… but please let me know if anything goes awry. Gomez will serve you your lunch when you're ready."

Lurch nodded, pushing past her. He strode over and sat at the head of the table so quickly that his mother didn't even notice his raging erection, but thankfully the sight of her quickly killed it anyway.

* * *

The gong-like bell rang for the fifth time in less than two minutes, and Gomez nearly lost his mind. Lurch’s mother had absolutely no regard for their health, and in the past couple of days she had been wearing them down into dust. Lurch, ever the gentleman, had hardly touched the bell this afternoon, but his mother practically hung on it all day, and he just couldn’t stand it. He moved to shatter the plate in his hands, but settled for placing it down by the drying rack and storming angrily away from the sink. “Let’s call off this whole mad charade!”

“Oh, darling, please be patient, it’s only for a few more days.” Morticia rushed to his side, looking deep into his wild eyes. Though he was beyond irritated, her gaze had an immediate calming effect on him. “You’d better go to her now before she rings the house down.” 

Gomes sighed, nodding slowly. The sooner he got this over with, the better. Like clockwork, Morticia began to help him into his suit jacket, and the touch of her hands sent electricity up Gomez’s spine. Never again in his life would he take such a simple gesture for granted. They had been so busy that he hadn’t felt her gentle touch for what seemed like a millenia, and now it was enough to make him swoon. He missed her. He needed her- anything she would give to him. He turned like a wild animal, eyes searching to praise the cause of his pleasure.

“Oh Tish… when you help me with my coat, it goes right through me!”

He pressed a series of fiery kisses up her arm, reveling in the scent of her. He felt her lean into him, and even with all her subtlety he could tell she had missed his touch just as much.

“It’s impossible," she murmured.

The kisses stopped for only a moment. “What’s impossible?”

“That blondes have more fun.” A satisfied smirk spread across her face, and the next time the bell went off, she didn't say a word. Let it ring, and damn the consequences. She needed this. When her husband's lips met the back of her neck, she only barely stifled a soft moan.

"Tish…" Gomez lifted his head, eyes half-lidded. "Sleeping separately has made me need you more than ever. And all this stress… I've been pent up for ages, I can't stand it. When this is all over, I need you to throw me onto our nice, big bed and absolutely ruin me."

Morticia's eyes fluttered shut, and she hummed softly at the thought. "I will, mon cher. I promise." An eager exclamation at her French and another round of kisses was all it took to bring out some mischief in her. "But who really needs a bed for that sort of thing?"

Before Gomez could even think to respond, she had him pinned against the wall. She could hear the pounding of his heartbeat, and she leaned down to whisper in his ear, lips barely grazing his skin. "Mon sauvage… do you think you can cum for me in less than a minute?"

Gomez grinned, his eyes sparkling with glee. "Oh, absolutely."

"You'll need to be very quiet," Morticia warned him, unbuttoning his pants. "We could easily get caught."

Gomez shuddered. "I know."

Her hand found his already throbbing cock, and she began to pump him slowly. She made a point of looking him directly in the eye, matching each of her words with a slow stroke. "Lurch would be very cross with us if he found us like this without him."

"I know," Gomez repeated, biting back a groan. Every little touch made him weak in the knees, and her dirty talk had him flushed and breathless. He had missed her like hell, and she knew just how to help him take the edge off. With each stroke, the weight on his shoulders seemed to dissolve into thin air. He hoped she could see just how grateful he was.

"I think you'd like to be reprimanded by him," Morticia continued, her pace quickening. "He used a tone with me this morning that I know would make you ache."

Gomez gripped at her hips to keep his balance, thrusting into her hand. "Fuck, Tish, I know  _ exactly _ what you mean..."

"Do you?" She smirked. Her strokes became rough and fast, her hand gripping him more tightly. "That deep, measured tone, that authoritative glare… what do you think he'd say to you if he could see you now?"

_ Sloppy. Despicable. Desperate.  _ Gomez had to bite down on his fist to keep from moaning. There was plenty of fun to be had with fabricated danger of being discovered, but the prospect of an acrimonium-filled Lurch spotting him right now was very, very real. He liked to think that if the circumstances were different, if it was just the three of them, he could put on a bit of a show and then let Lurch have his way with him. He had never truly thought about what it would feel like to be dominated by the taller man until seeing how the potion affected him, but now it was genuinely all he hoped for. One touch from those powerful hands would leave him soft and pliable, easy to bend, easy to break, and oh, how he loved to be broken. Morticia's free hand slipped down to his testicles, fondling them gently, and he felt white heat building in his core. Such a quick climax would have normally been incredibly embarrassing for him, but time was of the essence. He allowed himself one more frenzied thrust before he came into her hand, shaking and whimpering against his clenched fist.

Morticia withdrew her hand, chuckling softly. "Look at you. You're such a mess." Her tongue flicked over the back of her hand, tasting the thick white fluid that had spilled over it. She let out a pleased hum, eyes slipping shut. "Mmh. Come to think of it, so am I."

Out of pure instinct, Gomez fell to his knees. "Let me help, cara mia, I can-"

"Oh, no." Morticia ushered him back to his feet. "I'll take care of myself. The only woman you're going to help right now is Lurch's mother."

Gomez grimaced, slipping his limp cock back into his pants. "Ugh. And just like that, my mood is ruined."

"Probably for the best, darling." She cleaned the rest of the semen from her hand with her tongue, and when she noticed her husband's eyes glued to her, she waved him away. "Now go on- and if anyone asks where I am, tell them I'm doing a very large, time-consuming load of laundry."


	5. Master of the House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lurch gets a bit drunk on power.  
> CW for more potion usage, manipulative mom, some power play, and uh... swords.

“A-ha! Caught in the act!”   
  
Gomez and Morticia practically jumped away from each other when Lurch’s mother barged into the kitchen. Of course  _ she _ would be the one to walk in when his lips were making their way up her arm. He hadn’t even gotten on his knees yet.

“Madam, allow us to explain!” Morticia spoke hurriedly while her husband hung his head in shame.   
  
“No need- I can see the plot now!” Mrs. Lurch pointed an accusatory finger at Morticia. “You intend to wheedle sonny into marriage!” She pointed at Gomez. “Then  _ you’ll _ do away with him and marry this shameless witch! Then you’ll  _ both _ split his fortune!” She nodded, as if she had everything all figured out.   
  
“Nonsense!” Morticia cried, her eyes wide. “Gomez wouldn’t harm a fly.”

“I’ve read a lot of detective stories, and the butler is  _ always _ the one who does it! Well, you can forget it all now- I’m wise to both of ya!” She gave them another stiff nod before rushing out of the kitchen, straight to her son who was waiting awkwardly in the living room. He could have heard her yelling from miles away. “Those people gotta go!” she cried furiously. “I won’t leave this house ‘til I see you safely set up with decent help!”

  
Lurch grimaced. He despised being called ‘the help,’ himself, and he despised the term even further when it was applied to Morticia and Gomez. In the last couple of hours he had done his best to cover up the mistakes of the day prior, but with each passing moment she grew more suspicious of them. He had ordered them, reprimanded them, exhibited his power as master of the house, allowed her to push them to their very limit, but a part of him knew she would not be satisfied until they were gone. It made him furious. This time, this time he would speak up to her. He would tell her exactly how ridiculous her vendetta was.

This time...

Her unyielding gaze had other plans for him. Like Perseus confronting Medusa, he suddenly realized the death sentence that going up against her directly would be.

_ Preserve yourself. _

“Maybe a raise...” he suggested meekly, cringing internally at himself. She probably wouldn’t even take  _ that _ well.

“A  _ raise _ ?! Hah! They want  _ all  _ your money!”

“They seemed so nice…” Lurch mumbled. He couldn’t let her get away with this, but he felt that he had no way to explain himself. What could he say- that they weren’t used to being servants? She had to understand- they were kind people. They were doing all of this for  _ him. _

“Yeah, well, you just call them in and give them their walking papers!” his mother spat.

Lurch groaned, turning away from her. She couldn’t be serious, could she? One look back at her, and his heart dropped to his stomach. Yes. She was deadly serious.

“Just call them in and tell them they’re fired!” Mrs. Lurch glared at her son, who was staring at her open-mouthed like a fish. “ _ Now! _ Quick! Git!” She emphasized each word with a rapid strike to her palm, and Lurch jumped as if he was the one who had been hit.

_ Preserve yourself. Preserve yourself. _

“Yes, mama,” he muttered, shuffling away. There was no reasoning with her now, not when she had her mind so made up. He felt ashamed to be so easily influenced by her, even with the power of the acrimonium. Even as an adult. He was not a child anymore, but every time she spoke to him that way, he felt small again. Invalidated. Trapped.

He did as she asked. He fired them from their own house, she phoned the employment agency for replacements, and as he watched them go, a smile crept onto his mother's face. She was proud. They were alone in this enormous mansion, just a mother and her son, staring each other down. And she was proud.

Finally.

It made him sick.

* * *

Lurch leaned back in his armchair, the acrimonium numbing his mind. His mother bustled around the house, fixing every little thing about it until it pleased her, and he did not protest. What else could he do? She had him under her thumb now. But she was proud. Wasn’t that what he had wanted all along? It hardly felt worth everything when she wiped away his identity and replaced it with her own, but the prospect of throwing away all his progress was devastating to him. A darkness creeped into his very soul, eating away at him and making him feel like a shell of a man. The potion in his veins seemed to boil, to froth angrily, but his body did not move. He allowed her to usher in Grandmama and Fester, listening from a distance as she accepted them as the new butler and maid. They protested, claiming she didn’t understand why they were here, but eventually even they became convinced to fall to her whims. He laughed bitterly. At least he wasn’t the only one.

Finally pleased with his house- more hers than his now- Mrs. Lurch called a cab. She was headed home. Lurch led her out the door as she hung on his arm, and for a moment, he felt as if things were normal. She was smiling at him. As she looked up at him with shining eyes, she almost seemed sad to leave. Perhaps she felt as lonely as he did.

  
  
“Well… goodbye sonny!”

  
  
Lurch lifted his mother into his arms, hugging her small frame close. “Goodbye, mama.” He released her, and watched her walk away to her cab, clinging to the scraps of validation she had given him. In all his numbness, it felt like the only joy he could afford.

As the car grew smaller in the distance, Morticia and Gomez clambered out of the bushes.

“Oh, dear Lurch, you were just marvelous!” Morticia said, beaming at him. “I’m sure your mother is very proud of you.”

“Nice work, old man, you brought it off splendidly!” Gomez gave Lurch a hearty handshake, grinning up at him. He made a move to enter the house, but something in Lurch compelled him to block the way.

_ Wait. You can’t let them in. You’ll lose your progress. What if she comes back? What if she sees you in your normal state? She’ll disown you. She’ll hate you. Preserve your power. Now. _

"Where do you think you're going?"

Gomez glanced at his wife, then back at Lurch. "Well, it's all over now- we're going back into the house."

"I'm sorry. Your positions have been filled."

The door slammed shut in their faces. It was the last straw.

Morticia’s eyes were wide with shock, and she let out an indignant huff, folding her arms at Lurch’s blatant disrespect. “Well!”

Gomez shook his head slowly, leaning against the now closed door and muttering to himself with wide, bewildered eyes. "Filled?! How could he possibly-! Filled! His mother is  _ gone _ ! I  _ saw _ her, she just left in that cab! There is no reason for- I cannot  _ believe _ the nerve!” In a moment of desperation, he jostled the doorknob. Locked. Of course- and Lurch had the keys. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Who the hell filled our positions so quickly anyhow?”

“That’s a very good question, darling. One I intend to answer immediately.” Morticia turned on her heel away from the front door, swiftly making her way back towards the guest house.

“How?” Gomez asked, following close behind. “You saw Lurch, he’ll never let us in- not even through the back door, or any of the windows.” He paused. “You don’t suppose I should break in? I could. I’ll throw myself at the window, shatter the glass, and you can go in through the hole I make while I pull the spare shards out of my scalp.”

Morticia said nothing. Instead, she opened the front door to the guest house and began stamping on the floorboards. “I know it’s around here somewhere, I… here!” A hollow thunk. She bent down, opening up the nearly invisible trap door. “Pugsley’s tunnels. They lead straight into the house.”

Gomez grinned. “Morticia, you’re a genius!”   
  
“I know,” Morticia replied with a smile. “As is our son. We’ll have to thank him later.” She slipped down into the dark passage, beckoning for her husband to follow.

* * *

The tunnels narrowed, and the pair of them dropped to their hands and knees, crawling forward into the darkness. Though Morticia swore she could navigate based on touch alone, she wished that Fester was with her to light the way. After a while, all the dirt walls started to feel exactly the same, and though she knew that the guest house was not that far from their home, she felt like they had been crawling forever. She realized that, in hindsight, they could have brought a caving helmet, and cursed herself for rushing.   
  
“Querida. Are we there yet? Did we make it?”

“One moment, Gomez, I’m feeling for a door.” She ran her hand along the dirt-covered ceiling. Nothing yet. She frowned. “Try feeling around where you are. I may have missed something.”   
  
Gomez ran his hands over the ceiling, and when he was sure there was nothing there, he took the liberty of gently caressing his wife’s ass instead. “Found something.”   
  
Morticia swatted at his hand, laughing softly. “You cad.”

“I can’t help it- it’s right in front of my face.”

“It’s pitch black, darling. You can’t even see me.”

“Ah, but I can feel you near me. Pitch black, surrounded by cold, unyielding earth on all sides, with nothing but our body heat to remind us we’re not yet corpses... it drives me wild.”

Morticia let out a soft hum, smiling to herself. As stressed as she was, the teasing flirtation actually did seem to calm her. “What I wouldn’t give to be a corpse with you right now, mon cher. The stress of this ridiculous charade has almost killed me anyway. Je suis épuisé.”

  
“Don’t speak French to me when  _ this _ is all I can reach, Tish,” Gomez teased, giving her ass a quick squeeze. “You don’t know what I’ll do.”

“If we weren’t in our son’s tunnels, I’d take you up on that offer,” she replied with a smirk. “But for now, I’ll just give you some space.” She crawled forward with newfound vigor, and only seconds later she hit her head on something hard. A metal door handle. “Gomez! I’ve found it!”

The hinges of the trap door creaked, and the pair of them peeked out cautiously. They had found their way into the basement. Morticia slipped out of the tunnels, pulling her husband up by his hand. She sighed softly, noting the dirt on her dress. “I suppose I should have expected that,” she murmured, brushing what she could off of her knees.

“Don’t worry, querida.” Gomez was just as dirt-stained as she was. “We’ll get cleaned up later. Let’s just go upstairs.”

“Like hell you will! Quit tracking dirt on my floor! I just swept!”

The pair of them turned quickly to see Grandmama bustling towards them with a broom. She was wearing a small bonnet much like Morticia’s, and she did not look happy to see them.

“Mama, calm down! It’s-” Gomez was interrupted by her broom connecting with his head. “Agh- stop! Stop it! You were supposed to- ow! You were meant to be helping us back inside anyway!” He grasped at the broom handle, throwing it out of the way. “What the hell happened?!”

“I got a job, that’s what happened!” Grandmama stated proudly.

“But you’ve been retired for years!” Morticia exclaimed. “Don’t tell me  _ you _ filled my position just to be back inside the house.”

“That’s exactly it-  _ and _ I get to set the salary!”

Gomez and Morticia looked at each other, bewildered. The whole family had completely lost sight of their usual dynamic. They could only hope the children were still behaving horribly back at the guest house.

“Now give me back my broom so I can clean up this mess you two made- and get back in those tunnels before I drag your sorry asses over to master Lurch!”

“Actually, we’d really prefer the second option,” Gomez replied. “We have to talk to him. The acrimonium we gave him hasn’t worn off like we expected, and-”   
  
“Hoooold on just a tick. Acrimonium, huh?” Grandmama narrowed her eyes, stepping closer to Gomez. “You don’t mean  _ my _ acrimonium from my  _ personal _ stash of potions, do you?”

Fuck. They had forgotten to tell her. “No,” Gomez lied, looking away. “Definitely not yours.”

“And just how much of not-my-acrimonium did you use, Gomez Addams?”

Gomez grimaced. “Um. Let’s see… one ounce, plus one more, and the two ounce bottle… and uh… the three ounce bottle...”

“We would have asked if things hadn’t moved so quickly, but we really needed to get Lurch in shape for his mother,” Morticia explained. “I’ll admit that this plan spiraled slightly out of control, but-”

_ “Enough!” _ Grandmama grabbed both of them firmly by the wrist, dragging them upstairs. “You’re both comin’ with me!”

Gomez and Morticia had no choice but to follow. Grandmama was muttering something about potion stability and magical half-life, but whenever either of them tried to speak, she gave them such a furious glare that it shut them up again. To their surprise, they were both pushed into the hall bathroom, stumbling on that stupid bamboo mat they were forced to set down a day before.   
  
“I’ll be taking you to Lurch in a moment, but  _ please _ just wash your hands first. It’ll make my job easier.”

Sure enough, the pair of them had hands coated in dirt from crawling around in Pugsley’s tunnels. Gomez sighed softly, turning on the freezing cold tap and scrubbing at his palms with a coarse bar of soap.

“So.” Grandmama folded her arms, squinting at the pair of them. “The three ounce bottle, huh. Don’t tell me he took it all at once?

  
“He did,” Morticia replied, sighing. “He insisted.”

  
  
“Bad move,” she replied, clicking her tongue at them both. “You steal my potions- and I suppose I’ll forgive you for that, it’s flattery at its finest- but you couldn’t even think to use them right?! Morticia, you should be ashamed of yourself. Anyone who majored in spells and hexes ought to know how these things work!”   


  
“You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world!” Gomez grumbled. He turned off the tap to dry his hands, leaving the sink and soap to Morticia.

“Well, it is!” Grandmama turned him towards her by his dirty suit collar. “You wanna know the standard dose for acrimonium?  _ One sip.  _ That’s about a  _ teaspoon. _ ”

Gomez grimaced. “A teaspoon, huh? That’s… small.”   


  
“Lurch’s tolerance is much higher,” Morticia informed her, drying her hands after turning off the frigid tap water. “We had no way of knowing what a proper dose for him would be.”

“Well, it ain’t  _ three ounces _ , that’s for damn sure!” Grandmama cried. “That’s  _ eighteen times _ a proper dose, and he took it all at once! That'll intensify every single little thing he feels, and he's not gonna come down from it for almost a full day!"

"Well, maybe if your handwriting didn't look like notes on someone's medical record we would have been able to figure that out for ourselves," Gomez muttered to himself.

Grandmama bristled with rage. "I've heard just about enough out of you, young man!" She took them both by the wrists again. "For as long as Lurch is high on acrimonium, he's still my boss, and I'm taking you to him. Either you calm him down somehow, or he's kicking you back out, and frankly I don't care which!"

* * *

The pair of them were all but thrown into Gomez's office- no. Lurch's office. The door slammed behind them, and the master of the house himself rose from the desk, 

"What do you think  _ you're _ doing here?" Lurch asked, his brow furrowed. He loomed over her, arms folded across his chest. His posture, Morticia realized, mimicked her own. She was quite impressed… but far too cross for it to matter.

"I think," Morticia replied coldly, "that I am entering my house with my husband."

"I've already told you- your positions have been filled."

Gomez opened his mouth, no doubt for a fiery retort, but his wife silenced him with a single finger. She could take care of this. "Our positions, Lurch, are not as they should be. You know this. I do not believe for a second that the acrimonium has corrupted you so far to believe that this house is yours alone."

Lurch glared at her, the potion spurring his already rapidly beating heart to fill his ears with the sound of its pounding.  _ Of course,  _ whispered that clever little id. It spoke with the voice of his mother.  _ The house was never yours. They could take it from you in an instant! They could throw you out on the streets, but not if you retain control. Preserve your power. Preserve it. _ He squared his jaw, and suddenly found himself reaching for a nearby sword.

Gomez's jaw dropped. Lurch was not a violent man. Though this change in pace would normally be thrilling, in this moment it was all very, very wrong. "What are you doing? Put that down!"

"Lurch." Morticia's tone did not waver in the slightest. "Be reasonable."

_ Preserve your power. _

"I'll ask the same of you," he replied, his voice a deep growl. He pointed the sword at her. She did not flinch. "Leave this house, and you will not be harmed."

Gomez made a sudden move to jump in front of his wife, to grasp at the blade and push it away whether or not it cut into him, but Lurch used his free hand to lift the other man several feet into the air by the collar of his shirt, leaving him squirming, suffocating, and helpless. Gomez swung his feet at the giant holding him captive, eyes wild with fear and hands grasping at his tightening collar. "Morticia!"

His wife did not move. "Are you threatening me?" Her gaze rested calmly on the tip of the blade. It was angled straight towards her heart. Slowly, the corners of her mouth turned upwards, and she let out an amused chuckle. "How sweet."

In a flash, she had ducked under his blade, pushing herself off the wall with such momentum that she spun across the room. Lurch stumbled to turn towards her again, swinging the sword clumsily as Gomez threw off his balance. There was a loud clang, and metal met metal as Morticia brandished a sword of her very own. Her smirk grew broader.

"If I were you, Lurch, I would aim for the jugular next time. Just as dramatic, and much more effective than lodging your sword in my chest. You might easily miss my heart."

"He knows that," Gomez sputtered, still tugging at his collar. "I taught him."

Lurch dropped him abruptly in favor of swinging his sword again. Morticia easily parried the blow.

"Gomez, darling, you're right- you did teach him that." She smiled, partying yet another blow. "Lurch doesn't want to kill me at all. He's just trying to scare us- and he's made a valiant effort."

Lurch blushed. How was it that she managed to embarrass him while he was in control? Mama wouldn't stand for that, or for the dirty footprints all over the floor as they advanced.

_ Preserve. Your. Power. _

"Get out of here. You're both filthy. Tracking dirt all over my office," he growled, swinging his sword again.

Gomez staggered to his feet. "We wouldn't have gotten so damn filthy if you had just let us in the front door!"

"It locks for a reason. Mama wanted you out." Lurch swung his sword lower this time, and Morticia just barely caught it with her own blade. "And she would not tolerate-"  _ Crash.  _ "These dirty uniforms-"  _ Crash. _ "In my pristine office."  _ Riiiiiip. _

Gomez and Morticia both froze. Lurch's blade had avoided Morticia's parry by a millisecond, and in that time, he had sliced a long slit in the side of her dress. Her pale leg was now visible, but by some miracle he had not drawn any blood. 

Morticia lowered her head, looking up at Lurch through her eyelashes in a way that only she could make intimidating. He was certainly not trying to kill her, or hurt her at all for that matter. The poor soul just had a lot of leftover tension- from his mother, from the acrimonium, from everything. "She wouldn't tolerate it. But would you?"

Lurch looked baffled, and he grunted. "I just said I wouldn't."

"No. You said your mother wouldn't." She raised an eyebrow. "Do you know what I think? I think that you've never truly had the chance to be master of the house. You know what you want, but you act for your mother instead. You've let her take over for you, even when she isn't here."

Lurch stared at her, stunned to silence by her words.  _ Don't listen. She's lying to get under your skin. Preserve your power.  _ The voice of his mother appeared uninvited in his mind, and it made him furious. He had done this for her. He had done everything for her. What did it get him in the end? All her approval had come from things he had forced. He didn't own a house, he had no servants, nor did he have the confidence to give them orders without the help of a potion. And without it, without his conformity to her standards… would she love him at all? 

He looked into Morticia's cold, dark eyes. Here was a woman who respected him in all his forms. She respected him enough to conceive this idea for him, to completely leave her usual role as mistress of the house and allow him to take her place. She respected him when he was shy and silent, when he was watching her take her husband on their bed a month ago. She respected his needs, his desires. She respected him as the man he was.

Why on earth had he been bleeding himself dry for a leech like his mother? He would never be enough for her, always just shy of perfect.

_ Preserve yourself. _

"I don't want that. I don't want any of it." His voice was low, soft, trembling.

Morticia nodded, entirely understanding. "And what do you want, Lurch?"

The towering man let out a shaky breath. God. So, so much. The thoughts he had been suppressing came flooding back to him. He wanted to disappoint his mother, he wanted to make eyes at the maid, he wanted to seduce the butler, he wanted to be wanted by these beautiful people. He wanted to find beauty within himself. He wanted pleasure, and he wanted freedom. The words piled up behind his lips, but he couldn't bring himself to speak. He took slow, deep breaths. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. The acrimonium rushed through him, granting him the power to speak as his heart pounded in his ears.

_ Preserve your happiness. _

"I want you." He turned to face Gomez. "Both of you."

Gomez flushed bright red. It felt so good to hear him say it. "We're yours," he promised. "And our offer still stands."

Lurch smiled, the tension in the air clearing almost immediately. What a beautiful thing it was to confess that without consequence, and to receive such a satisfying answer. He wished he could have done it without the potion, and vowed that he would ask again once he had come down from his high. He would ask them a hundred times, he would build his confidence and self-love on his own. "I've been thinking of you both," he continued. "Fantasizing about where I could take you."

Morticia smirked. "Oh?"

Lurch nodded, turning back towards her. "The kitchen counter, the chair in the living room, against the wall, on the rack…"

"What about this desk?" Morticia asked, gesturing to the neat mahogany beside her. "It's really quite ideal for sex. Gomez and I have tested it."

"We hoped you'd walk in on us," Gomez added, ducking his head in embarrassment.

Lurch flashed the shorter man a devilish grin. "Cute." The single word made him squirm, and Lurch lived for it. He turned back towards Morticia, suddenly lifting her to place her on the desk. His hand was gentle, yet firm, holding her bare thigh that emerged from her ripped dress.

"Lurch. Wait." 

Lurch stopped, face inches away from Morticia’s. She looked at him with eyes full of want, but her expression betrayed a small amount of concern.

“You’re sure about this, darling?” She rested a hand on his cheek, vermillion nails resting lightly against his skin. “I don’t want you to regret even a moment of this, and that potion seems to cloud your mind.”

Lurch nodded immediately. “I’m sure.” He kissed Morticia’s forehead gently. “I’ve wanted this since long before the acrimonium. Since before the Butler’s Ball. I just couldn’t ask for it. I was afraid.” He rested a hand on her lower back, supporting her gently before glancing up at her husband. “I’ll want it this time, and I’ll want it each time after. If you’ll have me.”

“Of course,” Gomez breathed, nodding at him. “We’ll have you whenever you want, angelito mio.”

Lurch grinned, and a mischievous twinkle made its way into his eyes. “That’s master Lurch to you, Gomez.”

Gomez beamed, straightening his posture. “Yes, master Lurch. Sorry, sir.”

Lurch turned his gaze back to Morticia, who matched his mischievous eyes with equal enthusiasm. “What is it that you’re going to us, sir? Are we to be punished for tempting you these past few days?”   
  
Lurch laughed, the noise a low rumble in his throat. This would be fun. “I’m going to have you on this desk.” She shuddered at that, and he smirked proudly. He glanced back up at Gomez, who stood stiffly against the wall. “And you… you’re going to strip, and watch. Understood?”   
  
“Yes, sir.” The pair of them spoke almost in perfect unison, and Gomez began to hurriedly remove his coat, his body already growing hot under his gaze. As he tossed his bowtie, shirt, shoes, and cumberbund aside, Lurch held up a hand to stop him.

“Lose the pants… but put the bowtie back on.”

Gomez flushed bright red, nodding as he stepped out of his pants. Something as simple as a bowtie was not something he had ever imagined being erotic, but as he secured it around his neck once more, his cock strained against the thin fabric of his boxers. He tightened the tie a bit more than necessary, reveling in the possessive pressure. A collar. A bow to wrap him as a gift. He looked up at Lurch, who nodded in approval.

“Perfect.” He grinned. "Mine." He turned his head back to Morticia, his hand finding its way to her exposed leg once more. "Sorry about this," he murmured, toying with the ripped fabric of the dress.

"No need to apologize- it's nothing that can't be fixed," Morticia assured him.

"No." Lurch gave her a crooked smirk. "Sorry about  _ this."  _ In one swift movement, he raised a second hand to the fabric and tore Morticia out of her dress. Her jaw hung slack in shock. Strong hands smoothed the pitch black fabric away from her alabaster skin, and her heart hammered beneath her ribcage. Morticia, venomous snake that she was, had hardly any experience feeling this vulnerable. She had gotten a taste of it the morning before Lurch's mother came, but she never truly thought about how it would feel to lean into it. Somehow, she thought, there was power in this, too. A voluntary exchange from mistress to master, a placement of trust, a promise of restraint. This direct violation of her property was far different from Gomez's wordy domination, his silver tongue. How strange for it to excite her so. Fury pulsed through her for the loss of her dress and her dignity, but even so, she desperately hoped he would continue.

"I trust that you'll buy me a new one."

"Only if you behave."

Morticia's face grew hot, but she nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good girl."

"You're despicable," she hissed, eyes falling shut. She couldn't look at him, she wouldn't allow him to know just how much this excited her. "Take me."

"Patience." Lurch palmed her gently through her black lace panties, humming softly when he felt that she was already dripping underneath. Her legs fell open for him, her hips raised towards his hand.

"Will you at least give me the decency of leaving these in one piece?" It was a challenge.  _ Rip them apart. I dare you.  _ Her eyes glittered like waves in a swirling black sea.

Lurch raised an eyebrow, hooking his strong fingers underneath the dark elastic band. "Decency?" He stretched the elastic far beyond its limit. 

She raised her chin in defiance at him, and when she heard the fabric begin to tear, a slow smirk creeped onto her face. Lurch, now entirely aware of what she was playing at, flashed her a crooked grin. 

"Never."

The delicate lace ripped beneath his fingertips, and the broken elastic snapped back onto her skin, hard. Morticia hissed with pleasure, legs trembling. From the back wall where he stood, Gomez let out a whine of desperation. The scene before him was almost too much to bear. Lurch turned his head, his grin widening as he witnessed the shorter man's cock twitching in his boxers. His eyes lit up when he realized he had attracted the master's attention.

"May I touch myself?" His voice was raspy, and full of desperation. Lurch hummed low in his throat, as if he was pondering whether or not to allow it. Gomez squirmed slightly. "Please, sir. I won't cum until you allow it."

Finally, Lurch spoke. "Go slowly."

Gomez slid his hand into his boxers, letting out a grateful sob as he slowly stroked his aching cock. It was hardly the stimulation he craved, but still his head swam with the pleasure of being ordered. "Thank you… thank you, sir."

Lurch nodded in approval, then turned his attention back to the raven-haired goddess laying on the desk. Morticia drew him closer, hooking a leg over his shoulder, and he chuckled with amusement. "Someone's eager."

"You've kept me waiting, sir. I don't know what you expected," Morticia replied, smiling up at him. “It’s difficult to be this patient, especially with you tempting me at every opportunity.”

Lurch growled, leaning down to nip at the sensitive skin of her neck. She gasped softly, tilting her head back to allow him easier access. Her hand rested gently on the back of his head, urging him closer. A trail of possessive kisses seared her skin, trailing down her neck, over her collarbone, and pausing on her breast just beside the cup of her bra. How dare it stop him. His teeth found the offending article of clothing, and he tugged at it, hands fumbling behind her to release the clasps. She slipped out of it effortlessly, leaving her in nothing but the lacy French-style maid cap atop her head.

“Beautiful.”

“And yours,” Morticia murmured, a demure smile on her face.

“And mine.” Lurch nodded in agreement, his fingertips ghosting over her thigh. His hand came to a stop on her mound, sitting just above her clit. He froze slightly. In the heat of the acrimonium, he had forgotten his lack of experience. Thing had been wonderful practice, but this was very real. He hardly wanted to use a goddess like Morticia as a test run. Holding fast to his confidence, he turned to her husband who was slowly stroking himself against the wall.

“Gomez.”

His head snapped up, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. “Yes, sir?”

“Come here.”

Gomez nodded, letting his cock hang loose out of his boxers. He cautiously made his way over to Lurch, eager for further instruction.

“Tell me…” His thumb brushed over Morticia’s slick labia, and she shuddered. “How does this beautiful creature like to be touched?”

Gomez smiled, locking eyes with his wife. She smiled back, a rare flush painting her pale cheeks. “Care to give master Lurch a demonstration, mon cher?”

“With pleasure,” Gomez breathed, heart skipping a beat at her French. He extended an arm towards her, but Lurch caught him by the wrist.

“No. Only I can touch her.” He released his wrist and placed a flat palm on Gomez’s chest, pushing him until he was just behind him. “Tell me. And watch closely.”

Gomez licked his lips. This was pure torture already. “Yes, sir.” He watched as Lurch turned back towards his wife, two long fingers circling her entrance. “Press into her. Gently. Bring the moisture to her clit.” Gomez’s voice was low and ragged. Lurch did as he advised, sliding two slick fingers past her labia and over her sensitive clitoris. Morticia let out a soft moan of approval, eyes falling shut. Lurch repeated the motion slowly, carefully, his fingers curving upwards as if beckoning her closer.

“Perfect. That's it. When you're inside of her, press up. Hard. Curl your fingers. Stroke her. Spread her open with your other hand. God, yes, just like that. Give her tight circles, just on the tip of her clit. Her thighs- they’re sensitive. She loves to be kissed there.” Gomez watched Lurch follow each piece of advice, and he felt fire build in the pit of his stomach. This was pure agony, watching his wife squirm with pleasure under hands that were not his. The jealousy building in him only made his cock ache more, and he began to feverishly stroke himself.

“Gomez.” Lurch didn’t even bother to turn his head. “Did I give you permission to touch yourself?”

Gomez swallowed thickly, his strokes only gaining speed. “No, sir.”

Lurch’s hands left Morticia, who responded with a whine of protest. In one swift motion, he was tightly gripping the smaller man’s shaft, staring down at him. “Then stop.” He squeezed tightly, his enormous hand extending to press into his testicles, and Gomez’s knees very nearly gave out.

“Yes, sir.” The response was a weak whisper.

Lurch released his iron grip. “Good boy.” He returned his fingers to Morticia’s throbbing clit, lowering his head to her left thigh. With each stroke, he pressed a single kiss to the skin beside him, studying each and every part of it. By the time he was finished with her, he would know exactly what she needed. His tongue flicked over her stretch marks, tracing those beautiful lines with gentle reverence, and Morticia moaned his name.

Gomez was absolutely seething. “Please,” he hissed. “Please let me touch myself.”

  
  
Lurch laughed into the delicious skin of Morticia’s thigh. “No.” He kissed the sensitive spot between her thigh and outer labia, drawing his tongue over it slowly, and she all but sobbed.

“Lurch… je veux que tu me goûtes. Réclamez-moi avec votre langue.”

Lurch nodded slowly, processing the French. He could feel Gomez trembling behind him, and he smirked. Morticia had not taught him much, but he understood what she wanted. _I want you to taste me. Claim me with your tongue._ He knew just enough to slowly respond.

“Dites s'il vous plaît.”

Gomez howled in agony, throwing himself against Lurch’s back. Both his lovers speaking in French was enough to drive him to madness. His own begging drowned out any response Morticia could provide. “Please, please, you’re killing me!” he sobbed, clawing at Lurch’s pinstripe suit jacket. “Let me touch myself. I can’t take it. Not for another second. Your French… and Tish, and everything- my blood is boiling! Have mercy on me, please...”

“Stop.” Lurch lifted his head, causing Morticia to sigh in protest once more. He towered over the short Castilian, looking down at the precum leaking from the tip of his throbbing cock. “It seems,” he murmured, swiping his fingertips over the head, “...that you have forgotten your place.” He took both fingers into his mouth, eyes falling shut for a moment as he tasted the pair of them on his tongue. By the time he opened his eyes again, Gomez’s breathing was ragged and desperate. With fingers now coated in his saliva, he tilted his chin towards him. “Let me remind you where you belong.”

Lurch circled the desk, his movements slow and calculating. “Kneel,” he commanded, pulling out the chair. Gomez dropped to his knees in an instant, winning him a pleased smile from Lurch. “Good. Now, get underneath the desk.”

Heart pounding in his throat, Gomez crawled beneath the large mahogany writing desk he sat at so often. The space was suffocatingly small, and it grew smaller when Lurch closed off his only exit by sitting in the chair. His legs spread, and Gomez was suddenly aware of just how hard Lurch had been this entire time. His erection strained against the fabric of his slacks, and as he reached down to unbutton them and slide a hand into his boxers, it sprang free. It took a powerful amount of restraint to carry on the way he had without touching himself even once, especially having overdosed on a potion meant to drive you towards your most immediate desire. Perhaps, Gomez realized, their pleasure was what Lurch desired before all else.

“I’ll be pleasuring your wife just above your head. You may not intervene,” Lurch stated, earning him a smile from Morticia. “You may touch yourself.” Gomez jumped at Lurch’s words, his heart soaring.  _ Finally. _ “But,” the taller man added, “...only if you can take my entire cock down your throat.”

Gomez Addams had faced many a thrilling challenge in his lifetime, but this was the most exciting to date. “Yes sir.” He grinned, brown eyes sparkling. “I won’t let you down.”

Lurch said nothing, and instead reached to turn Morticia towards him. He tugged her hips towards the very edge of the desk, lifting both her legs and resting one calf on each of his shoulders. As she gently raised her hips towards him, he groaned at the intoxicating scent of her. He absolutely understood her husband’s addiction, and eager to remind him of what he was missing, he licked one long, slow stripe from the bottom of her labia to the tip of her clit. She let out a moan that was more than loud enough to make him jealous, and he smirked, lapping eagerly at her. God, she tasted like nothing he had ever experienced. If they sold brandy with such a flavor, he would be the most sophisticated drunkard on earth. He tried his very best to mimic the movements he had been guided towards, his tongue swirling around her clit in tight circles. Morticia gasped, vermillion nails digging into the back of his scalp. He grunted against her, the piercing pain a clear sign that he was doing something right.

In the dark space beneath the desk, Gomez could hear his wife’s weight shifting on the wood above him. Each noise of pleasure made his blood boil- how agonizing to be denied the taste of her- but he had other things to occupy his mouth with. He gently took Lurch’s thick cock in his hand, noting that it was far bigger than Morticia’s beautiful red strap-on. Of course, that wouldn’t stop him. He would just have to take things slowly. His tongue flicked out over the tip, causing the giant to shift in his seat slightly. Slowly, carefully, he drew the head into his mouth, taking only a fourth of the shaft before withdrawing slightly. Though it was mostly to ensure that he could gauge the girth of it, he took pride in Lurch’s groan of desperation above him. He was not above a bit of teasing, and he would take this as slowly as he wanted. Little by little, he eased more of the throbbing member into his mouth, gagging only slightly as it hit the back of his throat. The length was now passing his comfort zone, and he shuddered- it felt somehow even larger when it was actually in his mouth. After several cursory swallows, finally, finally he took the length of him, lips meeting the base. He let out a slow breath through his nose, tears pricking at the edges of his vision. God, how exhilarating. A cock this big could surely kill him, and he would gladly let it.

Lurch let out a moan of ecstasy, only barely avoiding his immediate instinct to thrust into Gomez’s mouth. He sucked hard at Morticia’s clit, and her cry echoed off the office walls. Her legs were trembling, her fingers tightly tangled in Lurch’s short hair to encourage him further. Though he was still learning, tongue feeling its way around the new territory, his instincts were wonderful, and she could see the results of his practice with Thing. The tip of his tongue traced several new shapes into her- a sharp triangle, a spiral spinning out into eternity, the unmistakable up-down-up-around flick of a tiny heart. Her back arched off the sleek mahogany, and she rocked her hips towards him, firmly trapping his head between her thighs. He groaned into her, the noise rumbling in his own ears along with his rapid heartbeat.

Once Gomez was finally used to the heavy cock filling his mouth, he began to take up a slow rhythm. As he pushed forward, pulled away, pushed forward again, he felt the gentle twitch of Lurch's hips. The powerful man seemed to be holding back slightly, as if afraid to hurt him.  _ Let it hurt, _ Gomez thought, withdrawing almost entirely before shoving the cock down his throat again.  _ I'm not easily broken. I've gladly suffered far more at Morticia's hand.  _ He thrust his head forward once more, and finally he was rewarded by the sharp snap of Lurch's hips. Gagging on the thick member thrusting into him, he held himself steady by gripping at the taller man's thighs. He had become so caught up in taking this perfect cock that he had almost forgotten he was allowed to touch himself. Thankfully, the fact slipping his mind only caused him more pleasure when he reached to rapidly pump himself anyway.

Morticia and Lurch had finally found a rhythm that suited them both, and it had her thighs trembling around him. His tongue was lapping feverishly at her clit, one long finger teasing at her entrance as she sobbed for him, begging for more. He obliged, sliding into her, and her nails dug so deep into his scalp he thought he might bleed. A second finger found its way into her. Her head snapped up, and she released him from the prison of her thighs. The usual calm of her eyes had disappeared, replaced with a violent storm.

"I need you inside of me."

Lurch shuddered, his hips snapping into Gomez's mouth and earning him a sharp cry from beneath the desk. He lifted his head from Morticia's throbbing clit, his chin slick with her moisture, and his free hand slid beneath the desk to grab a fistful of Gomez's hair. Only further encouraged by the dull pain as he tugged, Gomez swallowed, happy to remain here until he fell unconscious. 

With a regretful groan, Lurch slid out of him. "Stand up," he commanded, his voice weakened by the throes of the blinding pleasure he had willingly relinquished. Gomez clambered out from underneath the desk. His legs were shaky, but he stood up straight, head held high to proudly exhibit his flushed face. He smiled. Lurch stood from his chair, claiming Gomez's swollen lips in a fiery kiss. Though he relished the rare chance to be so dominant, he believed the kind man deserved at least a small reward before he returned to torturing him again. The taste of Morticia was still strong on Lurch's lips, and Gomez flicked his tongue across them, desperate to recover what he had lost. A firm hand smoothed itself over the back of his head. Gomez all but melted. Such incredible tenderness was something he would laugh at coming from Morticia- it wasn't necessary. There was tenderness in pain. Lurch, however, would be gentle until the very end, even if he was the master of the house. It was incredibly endearing.

After a moment, Lurch pulled away. He glanced at the both of them, smiling as he began to slowly strip. First his jacket, then his tie. His shirt, his shoes, his already unbuttoned pants and boxer briefs. Nude before them, scarred chest bared in all its glory, he approached Morticia once more.

"So gentle with him. How sweet. I would never allow that. However… if Gomez keeps stealing you away from me, I may have to resort to drastic measures," Morticia remarked, admiring his muscular form.

"Oh?" Lurch raised an eyebrow. "Such as?"

With a devilish smirk, Morticia stood up atop the desk. Now far taller than even Lurch, she reached down and grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling at it hard til her dark pubic hair suffocated him. He growled, teeth scraping over her mound. So she wanted to play rough? He could play rough. He ripped his head away, grasping for the sword he had handled earlier. 

"Sit," he commanded, pointing the blade at her chest.

Morticia's heart skipped a beat, and after a moment's hesitation, she sat.

"Good girl. Lay down for me." The flat, dull side of the sword pressed lightly against her neck, guiding her down. Morticia shuddered at the cool kiss of the metal, nodding in approval as Lurch's eyes seemed to question whether he had gone too far. This was exactly what she had wanted. If she was to be dominated, he would have to fight for it.

"Cara mia," Gomez breathed, eyes wide. The sight of his wife laying bare with the sword at her throat made him feel the flames of hell licking at the back of his neck. If only the blade were his own, but his lack of control over it made things all the more arousing. He knew Lurch would never hurt her. He trusted him with both their lives. And yet… "The blade… do you feel how it brings you inches from oblivion?"

"Inches away, and yet so far, mon cher. To live on the edge is the finest of torture," Morticia murmured to him, eyes glittering black.

Lurch shifted the sword slightly. A warning. "Quiet. Both of you." He loved to hear their sweet rhapsodies of death, but he refused to let himself get distracted from taking what he wanted. With one firm hand, he spread her legs open and positioned the head of his cock by her entrance. She wrapped her legs around him, urging him onward, but he stopped. "Gomez. Behind me."

Gomez nodded, and was behind him in an instant. Lurch took his hand and moved it gently to his cock, glancing back at him.

"Guide me into her."

Gomez shuddered. With an air of finality, he slowly guided Lurch's cock inside of his wife, sealing them together and depriving him of that wet warmth he craved so terribly. Morticia let out a sharp cry as he sank into her, nails clawing at the wood beneath her as she struggled under the sword. He was truly massive. Nothing like her husband. She reveled in the ache he brought her.

Pressing his forehead to Lurch's back, Gomez began to stroke himself in rhythm to Lurch's gradual thrusts. He could feel the taller man grow warmer as he fucked into his beautiful wife, and he ran his tongue over his pale back, tasting the salty perspiration on his skin. Lurch groaned loudly, too blinded by his own pleasure to command him to stop. Gomez's free hand traced the scar beneath his firm pectoral, chiseled into him like the marble that built Michelangelo's David. He was beautiful this way, thrusting hard into Morticia, trapping her beneath sharpened steel without ever cutting her. She was beautiful too, breathtakingly so, and with each stroke the image of her head thrown back in ecstacy was burned onto his retinas. He rutted up against Lurch's leg, moaning loudly.

"Take her. Feel her for me. Fuck, do you feel that? Ah- pinche  _ infierno-! _ Take her, take her,  _ take _ her, let the fire in her loins give you third degree burns, let her burn you forever- mark her and she will mark you in return, take her and she shall take everything from you." Gomez's head was swimming, his breathing ragged, and he grasped at Lurch's hips tightly, grinding his pelvis hard against him.

Lurch responded with a guttural cry of pleasure. He dropped the sword and let it clatter to the floor, using both arms to lift Morticia from the desk and hold her close. As he thrust forward, he felt her warmth, as he pulled backwards, he felt Gomez pressed flush against him. Morticia bit into his shoulder, sobbing, shaking, desperate for release. Finally, that perfect white heat exploded within her. Her muscles clenched around him, and she let out a shriek as wave after wave of pleasure blinded her. Lurch followed only seconds after, for once in his life grateful for a cock that could bring him an orgasm with no ejaculation. He stayed buried deep inside her for a moment, legs threatening to give out, but he remained standing as Gomez used his leg to bring him closer to his own release. Shifting Morticia's weight in his arms, Lurch's hand reached back to give Gomez's aching cock several firm strokes. Grateful tears began to fall from the mad Castilian's eyes, and he thrust into Lurch's powerful hand, moaning his name as he came.

Once they were all spent, once there was not a single sound ringing out in the room, Lurch gently placed Morticia down and collapsed in the chair. Gomez was absolutely right- in taking her, she took everything out of him. He wouldn't have it any other way. His heartbeat finally slowed. The acrimonium ebbed away from his bloodstream, and his clouded mind was acutely aware of being led down the hallway, two pairs of kind hands guiding his exhausted body onto a firm mattress. Tangled in black silk sheets, surrounded by his two beautiful lovers, he drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) told you they'd fuck  
> I've been thinking about adding more to this (after possibly one last Lurch chapter) by involving Debbie Jellinsky from Addams Family Values (because let's face it, Morticia would love to sink her teeth into her) but since that would involve a huge time skip and would feature Lurch much less, would it be worth it to add onto this specific fic or should I just create a new one?
> 
> (oh also, totally unrelated but if you'd like to follow me on my NSFW Twitter I'm [@onehorneddemon](https://twitter.com/onehorneddemon) on there, I yell unhinged things there and sketch horny nonsense on occasion :P)


	6. No Strings Attached (Epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief epilogue. Morticia, Gomez, and Lurch discuss their new dynamic, have a nice morning fuck during a storm, and share some pillow talk.

The three of them awoke early the next morning to the blissful sound of rain on the windowpane. None of them wanted to get up. The silk sheets and shared body heat made things all too cozy. However, Morticia refused to let such a gloomy morning go unappreciated. Despite her stark nudity, she rose from the bed to open each set of curtains in the master bedroom, taking care to wave at an elderly neighbor who passed by the house in a garish yellow raincoat. As she returned to the bed, both men were waiting for her with open arms, and they instantly sighed with relief when she settled down between them.

"Are you feeling well this morning, Lurch?" she asked, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "That potion certainly took a lot out of you yesterday." Gomez pouted, clearly jealous, and she delivered a kiss to his forehead to placate him.

Lurch hesitated for a moment, his brain still processing the fact that he was awake. "I'm sober," he finally stated, giving her a small nod. He averted his eyes, then quickly signed 'and I'm sorry. I treated you poorly. Both of you.' As his memories began to become less hazy, he deeply regretted how he had behaved on that large dosage. There had been no reason to shut them out of the house- they had always supported him far more than his mother ever would.

"Ah, that- it was no trouble. You certainly made up for it in your office," Gomez assured him, grinning lazily.

"Although you still owe me a new dress," Morticia teased.

New dress? Where had the old one- oh.  _ Oh _ . Lurch's eyes widened as the remaining memories of the previous evening flooded back. He fidgeted slightly, ashamed by how readily he had ordered them to do such lewd things, how rough and demanding he had been… but as he glanced at the pair of him, they were smiling in fondness. They had truly enjoyed themselves.

Gomez shook his head gently. "Never mind that, Lurch, I'll cover it. For the time being, you have plenty of other dresses, querida… but what you're wearing now is my favorite," he murmured, nipping playfully at her earlobe.

Morticia chuckled at him as he drew back the covers to reveal her nude body. "You rascal. I don't suppose breakfast would satisfy this insatiable appetite of yours?"

"Why bother with breakfast when I have a three-course meal right in front of me?" He glanced to the side when he felt Lurch shift out from under the covers, revealing his handsomely scarred chest. "Mmm. Make that six courses."

Lurch made a move to cover himself, glancing around for his clothes, but the way Gomez eyed him hungrily enticed him to slowly relax. Perhaps he was more desirable than he felt after all. He only hoped the two of them would continue to desire him without his acrimonium induced dominance.

"Lurch, dear, I'd like to warn you that Gomez intends to make love to at least one of us before leaving this bed," Morticia stated. "If you're uncomfortable, I'd advise that you leave."

Lurch hesitated. 'Do you want me to leave?' His hands were unstable, unsure.

"No!" Morticia and Gomez cried in almost perfect unison. "We'd love for you to stay," Morticia continued. "We'd just rather you choose to do so of your own volition."

"With enthusiastic consent!" Gomez added.

"And this time we'd like to discuss every facet of things," Morticia assured him, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder. There was a certain vulnerability in her eyes that he did not often bear witness to. "I hate to think that we may have embarrassed you during our first little fling, and as much as I enjoyed last night, I want where we stand to be crystal clear. No acrimonium, no strings attached. Just us.”

Lurch nodded slowly. The dedication this pair had to him and his comfort never ceased to amaze him. He was very grateful.

"If we're all in agreement, I propose that we lay down some ground rules."

Gomez pressed an eager kiss to Morticia's neck. "The ultimate foreplay. Go on, querida."

The trio began to break down their preferences, and despite Gomez's ravenous appetite for his wife's neck, they came to a satisfying arrangement. Lurch would be the one to approach them if he wanted sex in the future, and his hours would be altered so that he had more well-defined breaks to do so. There would be no flirting while he was on the clock, so as not to distract him. Lurch had a preference for bondage and roleplay, but not whipping, and Morticia agreed that the kiss of her whips would be reserved only for Gomez. He could feel free to sleep in their bed after the fact whenever he pleased, aside from anniversaries, holidays, and funerals, during which Morticia and Gomez would require some alone time in the dungeon. All the talk of what was to come had clearly excited Gomez more than before, and he was practically vibrating at his wife's side.

"Tish," he murmured, his lips grazing over her jawline. "The way you so firmly set these boundaries… it drives me wild! I'd hate to interrupt you, but if my lips aren't on yours within the next minute, I think I may faint."

Morticia smirked, all too eager to make him squirm. "I’m sorry, my darling, but I’m going to have to refuse you. In fact-" she turned to Lurch, whose cheeks grew hot under her gaze. "I think I'd like to kiss you instead. Let him watch."

Gomez groaned in delicious agony as the butler's lips met hers. "Another boundary. I adore you."

* * *

“The curtains…”

“Would you like them closed, Lurch?” Morticia lifted her head from where she had been kissing at his chest. “I’ve left them open so we can see the rain.”

“There’s just something about thunderstorms that sets my blood aflame,” Gomez murmured, nipping playfully at Lurch’s neck. The butler groaned, tilting his head to allow him more access.

After a moment of thought, Lurch spoke. “Leave them open.” A month ago, he would have never even considered having sex with the curtains wide open- or considered that he would have sex at all, for that matter. But with the pair of them flanking him, he felt safe. This house may not belong to him, but he was proud to live in it. If the neighbors truly felt the need to look into their second story windows during a thunderstorm, so be it. They’d see him getting treated like a king.   
  
Morticia smiled. “Very bold.” She licked a stripe over the long, sensitive scar beneath his nipple, and Lurch shivered. “I’m proud of you.”

* * *

“Querida,” Gomez rasped, bucking gently into his wife’s hand. “I want- no, I- I _need_ something inside of me. The lube... can you-?”

“Allow me.”

  
  
Lurch leaned towards the bedside table to grab the lubricant, taking care to keep Morticia stable where she was perched delicately on his cock. Though she had not moved at all since settling there, it had still taken him quite some time to gain the ability to form words again. He passed her the small bottle, and she gave him a pleased smirk.

“Why, thank you, Lurch. Such a gentleman,” she purred, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

He replied with a soft grunt, his bashful smile hidden behind her raven black hair. After all he had done the day before, it felt silly to be embarrassed by something as juvenile as a kiss, but Morticia just had that effect on him. He pressed a slow, gentle kiss to the nape of her neck, watching her husband through half-lidded eyes.

“Spread your legs and move closer, my love,” she murmured, squirting a generous dollop of the clear fluid onto her palm. Gomez quickly obliged, and she leaned towards him, barely stifling a whimper when Lurch's cock strained inside of her. She pressed two fingers gently against his hole, her palm tilted, and the cool, viscous fluid slid over him. He whined softly. She began to slowly massage at his entrance, teasing him open, her long red nails grazing dangerously over his sensitive skin. All the while, she locked eyes with him, and he shook under her gaze. Gomez had missed this more than anything. He felt that he had been without her touch for so long during the past few days that even something as simple as this left him completely undone, and he could see her drinking in his desperation. She watched him with hungry eyes, a viper ready to strike. He gripped tightly at the black silk sheets surrounding him, desperate for her to stop teasing and start to take him apart.

“Please…”

  
  
“Please what?”

Gomez’s cheeks flushed in shame, realizing his wife would never give him what he wanted unless he laid it all out in very explicit terms. Having a second person there to listen made it all the more humiliating. “Fuck me. Spread me open and fill me. Please.”

Lurch groaned softly from behind Morticia. He could feel her clench around him when her husband spoke, and he couldn't help but thrust shallowly into her. Any word from Gomez’s lips could make his heart race, but when he spoke that way, so unrestrained and wanting, it made him hot all over. He leaned forward to bury his face into Morticia’s shoulder, but he met with her hand instead, red nails framing red cheeks. The slickness of the lubricant still on her fingertips made him shudder. Slowly, she slid herself off of him, and he let out a disappointed whine as her warmth left him. How she maintained such incredible restraint through it all, he would never understand. But, of course, that was her appeal, and she knew it. Her hand slipped down from his face, across his chest, over his stomach, and gripped firmly at his cock, eliciting a hiss from his lips. She glanced back at her husband.

“Do you think you can take something bigger tonight, mon cher?”

The implication made Lurch’s cock twitch, and Gomez seemed just as eager. After pressing several heated kisses to his wife’s arm, he nodded, eyes wide with desire. “Definitely.” He flashed Lurch a crooked grin. “As long as you’ll have me, angelito mio.”

* * *

"Please… please…  _ fuck _ , Lurch!”

Lurch's cock slowly sheathed itself inside of Gomez, and the smaller man shuddered. He gripped tightly at his wife's thighs, moving his head from between them to crane his neck backwards.

"Good?" Lurch asked softly, his large hands resting gently on the other man's hips. He took slow, deep breaths, using every fiber of his being to remain in control. _God_ , he was tight. The pressure alone was enough to make his head spin.

"It aches," Gomez moaned, head falling onto Morticia's soft thigh. "God... it's torture." Lurch shifted his position ever  so slightly, as if he was about to pull out, and Gomez's head shot up again. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop!"

Morticia locked eyes with Lurch, stroking the back of Gomez's head idly. "Listen to him. He needs you desperately,” she purred. Her gentle hand became a fist, tugging at his hair until she drew a groan of pain out of him. “Go on,” she coaxed the butler. “Tear him to pieces."

No need to ask twice. In an instant, Lurch was pounding hard into his prostate. Gomez cried out in ecstasy as his wife pulled hard at his hair, trapping him between her thighs as she rutted against his mouth. Absolutely blinded by pleasure, he succumbed to his third orgasm of the day with a muffled scream. Outside, the storm raged. Lightning lit up the room. The rain pounded against the windowpane, persistent percussion to accompany the cries of the other two as they followed Gomez over the edge, a writhing, groaning mess of limbs and bodies. Something much softer, much more tender than an eldritch horror, but twice as powerful.

* * *

After two solid hours of every position they could think of, the three of them finally settled down.

“Say, Lurch- we’re all on first name basis at this point, right?” Gomez puffed at his post-coitus cigar, glancing over at the tall man laying beside him and his wife. “This is embarrassing, but I’ve never thought to call you anything else. I’ve known you as just ‘Lurch’ since I was twenty-two.”

"Twenty-one," Lurch corrected. " _ I  _ was twenty-two."

"Damn. How time eludes me."

“Oh, dear, now I'm ashamed of myself," Morticia murmured, her fingertips resting on her lower lip. "I don't know your first name either. When I gained custody of the house, I had every intention to keep things exactly as they were. I knew I'd never fire you no matter what your resume said- I never even looked at your employment paperwork."

“Good,” Lurch replied bluntly, staring at the ceiling. That paperwork had his deadname on it, and he was frankly overjoyed that they had no memory of it. The legal name changing process was such a drag that he simply never bothered. “Just 'Lurch' is fine.” He glanced at each of them, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I like how you say it. It's cute.”

“Is it now?” Morticia asked, giving him a bemused smile.

“The way you sign is far cuter,” Gomez stated, cigar hanging lazily from his lips. “Sign my name for me? I like the way it looks.”

Lurch blushed slightly, but obliged, slowly signing G-O-M-E-Z for the kindly man to see.

Gomez beamed. ‘Perfect,’ he signed back, his fingers meeting with a gentle flick of his wrist. He reached out and pressed a gentle kiss to each of the butler’s knuckles, making sure to double back and include each of the spaces in between.

“Gomez, dear, you’ll boil him alive with all this attention,” Morticia teased. “Look at him- the poor man’s so warm that he’s lost his lovely pallor.”

Sure enough, Lurch had flushed a bright red, and had averted his gaze entirely.

“Well, he’ll just have to get used to it,” Gomez replied, continuing to kiss along his arm. “A fellow like him deserves endless compliments.” He rested his chin in his hands, glancing over at his wife. “Tish, do you remember how you acted when I first complimented you this heavily? Even you were a bit shy back then. I had to warm you up to me.”

“I suppose I was,” Morticia murmured, nodding to herself.

"But once you realized what you wanted…"

"I demanded it."

Gomez flashed her a wicked grin. "And then there was no stopping me." He delivered another flurry of kisses to Lurch's extended arm.

Morticia smirked slightly. “Lurch, darling, brace yourself. When Gomez Addams intends to warm someone up to him, he does mean it literally. You may develop a fever that can only be broken by several consecutive orgasms."

Lurch tugged his hand out of Gomez's amorous grasp to prevent his brain from short-circuiting. "You know this from experience?"

"You could say that."

"Would you…" Lurch's voice caught in his throat, but he powered through his nerves and signed the rest. 'Would you demonstrate for me?'

Gomez grinned, tossing his cigar aside. "Up for a second round?" No sooner had the other man nodded than he pulled him into a searing kiss, fingers tangled in his short hair.

The crash of a gong rang through the house, and Lurch groaned softly. In all that had transpired, he had almost forgotten about his job.

"Gomez, please. Control yourself." Once her husband had torn himself away from the butler, Morticia gave him an apologetic glance. "Bad timing. Why don't we save round two for later tonight?"

Lurch gave her an eager nod, smoothing down his hair. "I'd like that." He rose from the bed, grasping at the clothes the pair of them had so kindly brought into the bedroom the night before.

"Oh, and Lurch?"

The tall man grunted as he slowly wriggled into his boxers. He glanced up at Morticia.

"Before the sex, how would you like to discuss a raise?"

Lurch nodded, beaming at the pair of them. A raise! With the Addams family, a raise meant he would be moving up several tax brackets at once. He was already paid quite handsomely for his work, but he certainly wouldn't say no to extra funds.

Morticia smiled fondly at him. "Wonderful. We'll arrange for both later tonight. Now, run along- I assume that ring was from Mama. She must be ready to send the children off to school."

Once his bowtie was adjusted and his slacks were smooth, Lurch strode out of the room to answer the call. Morticia watched him go, sighing happily. "Darling, I think we've done it. He seems more confident than ever. There's no doubt in his interest now." She stretched, arching her back in an unmistakably cat-like manner. "I suppose we ought to get up to say goodbye to the children before they go."

Gomez nodded, and in that moment it struck him how unbelievably grateful he was for his family- children, blood relatives, or otherwise. He was always thinking it, but in the moments that he felt it, that comforting flame blooming from his chest, he felt truly alive. He pressed a tender kiss to his wife's forehead. "Morticia?"

"Mm?"

"Perhaps in a few years, once our appetites have settled... we can start planning for a third?"

Morticia looked incredulously at him. "What an odd question, darling- we're clearly ready now. Our boundaries have been set, Lurch seems quite happy, and the sex is unlike anything I've ever experienced. I see no reason not to continue."

"No, querida… I mean a child."

Morticia's lips parted, her husband's proposal finally sinking in. "Oh, Gomez." She beamed at him, her glittering black eyes brimming with emotion. "I thought you'd never ask."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and then some years later they had Pubert :D  
> Just wanted to wrap it up with something short and sweet! (or shorter than the other huge chapters at least lol) Thanks to everyone who has been genuinely interested in this very self indulgent fic, you've all been very very nice to me and you've encouraged me to write more stuff in the future!! :')


End file.
